


Fangs and Horns

by SilverRyuu



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Inquisitor is a ditz, M/M, Sex, awkwardness on Lavellan's part, bodage, light sub dom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:12:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverRyuu/pseuds/SilverRyuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varacen, Inquisitor, Herald, and much more, is captured and hurt. It's up to all his friends to help convince him he's not marred beyond appreciation. As he fights his demons he begins to fall for Iron Bull, can he truly love a Qunari who turned Tal-Vashoth? Can he love someone who believed in a system where most likely Varacen would have been killed? He longs to just do his role, but can he do everything? The Maker seems to think so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Character: Assassin Rogue Lavellan w/English accent.  
> Warning: Violence and well Inquisition-ness really.  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, I am a nobody and the world will forget me within the next five seconds.  
> Plot: The Inquisitor is the fabled Serpent of the Dales. He is an accomplished player of the Game, while being the 'leader' of the Lavellan clan. Until of course Corypheus tears a hole in the sky. Then thrust into the position of Herald he is trapped fighting a being from Chantry lore. To say the least he is a stressed elf. Then news reaches them that the clan had been attacked, and most are either dead or scattered. Lavellan seems to shut down.  
> Side Note: ‘italicized with apostrophe’ means letter regular italicized means dreams.

‘Ambassador Montilyet,  
I regret that my help for your Dalish allies came too late to be of use. By the time my forces arrived in the area, the Dalish had been scattered or killed, and there seems little left of their clan.  
I understand your Inquisitor must be feeling the loss of his clan. Please accept these gifts and my promise of future help whenever it is necessary.  
Yours,  
Duke Antoine of Wycome.’  
Varacen read the letter and grew paler and paler. He set the letter down for fear of destroying it and leaned on the table. They had just recently moved to Skyhold, in fact Varacen was still recovering from his near frozen reunion with the others. He had experienced time magic and had allied with the mages. He was now preparing for the Winter Palace, and was investigating after what the crazed Wardens were doing. Or at least that’s what he would have been doing. He was deaf staring blankly at words his mind was refusing to register as real. He blinked when his vision blurred and he was surprised to find a droplet of water on the paper, near the bottom. He idly wondered if it was raining and there was a leak then another droplet appeared and he realized faintly the drops were tears. He was crying.  
“Are you alright?” Josephine asks softly, they all knew what the letter said, they read all reports before handing him them, in case of sabotage or if they were just clutter mail. They hadn’t meant to pry; they wouldn’t have known the letter would say this. He silently nods, unable to pull himself back up. Cullen stays silent, uncertain how to comfort the elf. Liliana very gently placed a hand on his tensed shoulder. He reluctantly tore his eyes from the paper.  
“You should go and take some time for yourself. This must be extremely difficult for you.” Liliana states and he can see it in their eyes and on their faces, his appearance shocks them. He has never cried or shown anger and now tears of sorrow stain his cheeks and glitter in his eyes that must be pools of seething rage. Varacen nods and then hesitates as he looks down. After a pause he folds the letter, and stands straight hiding his emotions with a blink.  
“I’m fine, we have work to do.” Varacen says evenly voice monotone. Cullen is the one to step up this time. He squares his form standing his full height and crosses his arms brow frowned.  
“We have work yes. You need to take a break.” Cullen states firmly and all Varacen can do is arch a perfect brow unimpressed, and cross his own arms hips cocked.  
“Says the man ‘married to his work.’” Varacen quotes remembering Cullen say this to a scout who’d been flirting with him. Cullen blushes lightly but shakes his head.  
“I’ll drag you kicking and screaming if I have to.” Cullen threatens and the elf gave in. He sighed and walked out nodding to his Ambassador, Spymaster, and Commander. He walked down to the training grounds, and saw Bull. He walked to a soldier.  
“Could I borrow your swords, gentlemen?” He asked of the two viewers watching Bull and Krem. Varacen waited patiently until Krem was plastered to the floor before hopping over the training fence. Pointing a blade at Bull.  
“I get next fight.” Was all Varacen had to say. Bull grunted as he hefted the axe up over his shoulder placing a hand at his hip he eyed the two long swords skeptically. Someone Varacen’s size should stick to daggers.  
“Alright, Boss.” Bull states taking stance and swinging the obsidian axe down into position. Krem had stood and limped away rubbing his sore ass and grumbling about ash skin giants. Varacen took stance and let everything bleed away to sharp focus. Bull swung up and Varacen snarled as he lashed forward. Bull was caught off guard by how swift and agile Varacen was despite the weight of the blades. He stepped back and had to swing around his side but Varacen had spun thwacking Bull’s side in two parallel lines with the flat sides of the blades.  
“Whoa, what pissed you off?” Bull asks surprised, and Varacen snarls again anger surging through him. He got messy, his next swing too fast not calculated and Bull caught the arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to kneel, Varacen didn’t give up turning the blade he went to stab Bull, who kicked the blade out of the small hand. Varacen snarled and tried standing but Bull pressed him down both arms this time.  
“Nothing!” Varacen spits, anger flaring in him bright enough to actually show in his starling green eyes, viewers stepping back from the display of forcibly subdued rage. Bull could sense it and released the elf who leapt up and spun lifting a leg and kicking Bull in his raised forearm. Varacen knew hand to hand he never needed a blade, only preferred them. He punched and kicked Bull until he was panting and the anger was gone, only faint and the grief was threatening to overwhelm him. Without a word he turned and left unable to say anything for fear of cracking and breaking down.  
He went inside and to his room tearing off the fancy cotton outfit his advisors asked he wear and pulled on doeskin leggings and flopped face first onto his bed, his whole body shaking as he clutched a pillow to himself curling into as tight of a ball as he could and sobbing his heart out. His hair fanned out and down his back like a long dried blood stain, as he blocked out the world.  
“Boss? You need to talk?” Bull asks and Varacen releases the pillow drenched in tears to sit up facing the Qunari. He looked like shite.  
“No. I want to kill the bastard who did this.” Varacen barked glaring and sneering. Bull is surprised by the hostility, but doesn’t show it. Then the elf swallows and calms himself down. “I’m sorry. The letter’s somewhere in the pile of trash in the center of my room.” Varacen states gesturing at the now destroyed outfit. Bull finds it and understanding dawns on the scared face. He nods with a grumble. Something’s not adding up about the letter, a little too coincidental, and informative.  
“This sounds fishy.” Bull states. Varacen gets angry again snarling as he launches himself at Bull.  
“They’re dead! There’s nothing left to give a fuck about! They’re dead!” Varacen screams the last part as Bull holds him having dropped the letter to deal with the wild elf. Varacen’s crying again hiccupping and shaking as he hides his face in Bull’s shoulder. Bull knew that the elf was fiercely loyal to his Clan and was obsessively protective.  
“You good now?” A negative shake of the head, Bull sees a hand rise to hold onto the strap of his harness. Varacen looks up at Bull.  
“Make me forget, just a moment. I know you can. I’ve heard the barmaids. Please.” Varacen asks and Bull can’t pass up an offer like that, not when coming from a petit elf with blood red hair. He lifted Varacen by the hips and kissed him hard. Varacen let out a surprised noise before Bull pulled back.  
“Fuck…” Varacen swears mind already forgetting what had upset him. Now he was having a sensory overload on Bull. The scent of leather and metal and that unique musk that was purely Bull’s mixed to make his mouth water. Bull’s muscles shifting with every move, even just a twitch, it was a turn on for the elf that was short even for his race. The taste, alcohol and a strange taste Varacen had never had before, but he bet it was Bull. He was actually hard for the first time in years, and all it had taken was Bull’s taste and scent along with his size.  
Bull’s hands fit around his hips perfectly, nearly completely circling around. If Bull wanted he could easily lift him with one hand. And the Qunari had to be nearly twice his height and heavy enough to be six of him. Then they’re kissing again and Varacen could care less if Skyhold burned to the ground. He’s dropped to the bed and the low growl that left Bull made Varacen shudder and groan lightly. Bull chuckled and pulled off the boots and his harness and his pants.  
“Shit! Damn Bull; proportional in every aspect. I won’t be walking right ever again.” Varacen jokes looking hungrily at Bull’s cock. Then there’s a hand on his chin forcing him to look up, a thumb gently swipes over his lips and stays there hushing the question he had wanted to ask. His eyes flick up to Bull’s face looking him in the eye.  
“If I do anything you can’t handle and you want to stop, you say Katoh, and I’ll stop no questions asked.” Bull states and Varacen goes completely hard and his eyes flash, he’d never taken anyone like what Bull was offering, he’s always been the giver, but he knew this, watchword, it was so the one bottoming didn’t get hurt. A mute nod, he didn’t have a word, had never needed one. Though he felt disadvantaged with the hulking distraction completely nude and himself still wearing leggings.  
“Katoh to stop if I can’t handle it; got it. I know my limits, a warning for you though, best not to say elf or knife ear, I might not be able to bear it at the moment.” Varacen was honest those two derogatory names might trigger him to go violent. Bull nods and Varacen knows he’s not in control any longer. He only has the word, it’s as terrifying as it is exciting.  
“On your back, legs spread, wrists crossed above your head.” Bull grumbles and Varacen just relaxes into that voice submitting, following the orders no hesitation, Bull hadn’t said to move any further than where he’d been dropped. Bull groaned his eye hooding at how the elf responded, almost as if Lavellan could read his mind.  
“Don’t move.” Bull growls and Varacen shivers and bites his lip his hand fisting as he readied for whatever Bull was going to do. Varacen stared resolutely at the ceiling, if he didn’t look he could keep his composure, Bull would have to work for any noise he wanted. He had learned to be quite and discreet, it was the curse of living in a tight knit group that lived in paper-thin wagons in spitting distance of one another. Then he feels the first touch, light almost a tease; a test. Varacen lets out a slow measured breath and takes in another, in out, keeping a slow steady rhythm. Then the touch roughened, Bull curled his fingers, his blunt claws scrapping with just enough force to sting, Varacen’s breath stopped for a moment his eyes widening at the small but sharp pain the touch now brought.  
“You’ve done this before… Now, unless given permission no talking, only sounds, if asked a question answer immediately and honestly. Understood?” Bull asks leaning over the elf knee by the small hip hands resting on either side of frail seeming shoulders. Varacen draws a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the sudden and encompassing presence of Bull. He swallows hard, shivering again, and not from the breeze coming from the open balcony.  
“Yes. I’ve never bottomed though.” Varacen states softly expressing nervousness not typical of him. Bull grins curling a hand in red hair he tugs the head back exposing an unmarked throat of porcelain skin. Varacen shudders knowing what Bull wants and he wants to fight as it was not what he was used to, he wasn’t some coy little elf wanting to just lay down and take it. He repressed the urge but Bull watched him, and chuckled.  
“Fight me; we both know how it’ll go down Varacen.” And the elf shivers at hearing his name on that tongue sounding foreign yet so right. Varacen knows Bull can beat him in brute force. So he instead goes lax masking himself making it look like he’d given in, Bull took his bait, hands up grabbed the horns and pulled twisting them over then those hands have his hips, and he freezes because his breath leaves him and everything crumbles with one touch, it was gentle and concerned and Varacen felt that part of him give out. He was done fighting Bull had proven him right the gentle touch was all he needed to sooth himself. He relaxed in the hold and blushed at the surprised look on Bull.  
“Ben-Hassrath training fail you? Body language is a spy’s first weapon.” Varacen says and Bull chuckles and the elf gives a shaky grin he’s starting to think and it’s painful. Without thinking Varacen kisses Bull desperate to forget and his eyes are closed, fully trusting the Qunari. Bull kisses him in a calm manner rolling them back so the elf is under him. He calmed that desperation and lit that fire in the elf with light exploratory touches, and Varacen had let go a little more whimpering as Bull finds those sensitive little spots, especially his nipples. Varacen was so embarrassed tried to squirm away but then the fingers and nails are replaced by lips and a tongue and he can’t he lets out a little sigh of pleasure that attracts Bull’s attention. Then there’s teeth and Varacen let out a shocked noise as his body jerks, and he’s made aware of how hard he is and he wants to beg Bull but isn’t sure how strict Bull is or even what rules really are in place, so he decides to test Bull.  
“Please! Fuck me already, you teasing bastard.” Varacen hisses gasping when pain races up his side from where blunt nails dig into his side and his body arches up proving his need, but Bull just chuckles. Varacen wonders if he’s been as cruel and knows the answer is yes, he’s made his past lovers beg. He swallows hard and his mind races, there was a kind of play he enjoyed but he’d be in the opposite roll. He knew what he looked for in his ‘pets’ but to be one himself… He ached and felt shame curl in his gut. That was for a letter date. So he gave in and let Bull just have him.  
“That’s it.” Bull purrs as Varacen relaxes and takes what Bull’s giving, which is currently teasing. Varacen sighs as gentle kisses work up his neck to his jaw then his lips. Then one of those hands that Varacen knew could crush a man, but were so gentle on him at the moment move down his chest and he made an almost pained noise as Bull started massaging the tent in his pants.  
“Nnnih…” Varacen whined and Bull smirked at the way those green eyes hooded and those lips parted as he fought to keep himself still. Then he moved down and Varacen’s eyes widen as Bull nuzzles the same bulge he’d coaxed to hardness. His breath quickens and he quivers as he watches then Bull surprises him, he stands a light smirk on his face.  
“Stand up and strip. Then kneel on the bed, hands clasped behind your back.” Bull growls, Varacen understands the test, it’s to see if he’s really given in, with the grace that always accompanied his movements he stood but kept his head down, staying docile. He then untied the laces and hooked his thumbs in the pants line easing the soft leather down his hips, letting out a small pleased sound when his cock finally free, he heard Bull’s breathing deepens and picks up. Satisfaction filled him; he was affecting the Qunari then. He looked up as he stepped out of the puddle of leather and nearly collapsed to his knees; Bull was stroking himself and was near full mast. Big, was all the elf could think now his face and ears going pink but only from want.  
“Size Kink…” Varacen mutters lightly without thinking realizing it as he could still partly see his own cock that had twitched excitedly at the sight. Bull chuckles and Varacen realizes he should technically be getting punished for keeping Bull waiting, his face flamed this time from embarrassment. He turned hands clenching as he crawled onto the bed yelping as Bull helps him along with a smack to his ass. Varacen’s head dips down as he settles on his knees, the heels of his feet pressing against the red mark only making him ache with want for more. He clasped his hands and bowed his head trying to be as docile as possible, he wanted to please, not annoy Bull because he needed to train him.  
“Good boy.” Bull praised and Varacen’s breath hitched and his ears twitch, he knew he had a praise kink and flushed as Bull let out a low snicker, then a promise to explore that more thoroughly. Bull lifted the elf’s chin and kissed him, hard and domineering and the elf didn’t flinch or fight he let the Qunari plunder his mouth. Moaning when he was pulled back by his hair, Bull growled at the fucked look already on the elf and his cock throbbed.  
“Lean forward rest your weight on your chest. Do you have any rope in here?” Bull asks suddenly getting an idea he smiles as the elf looks at his armor. Bull smirks, wrapped around one of the thighs was thin rope almost for snares but not quite, Varacen used it in combat, it was strong material, but soft to the touch. Bull went and grabbed it and tied Varacen’s hands, but was careful gentle and Varacen turned his face into his sheets, unable to let his face be seen. It was too intimate too gentle. Bull can’t act like he cared so much, these games weren’t meant to allow attachment. It was to keep that out of the whole fucking, no ties just sex. Bull was making it difficult to not care.  
“Fuck, you look so good tied up like this.” Varacen gasps at the praise and looks back at Bull whose eye is scouring his form and swallowed humming a pleased sound. Bull looked up grinning, his eye sparkling with lust and desire and awe, which caught Varacen off guard. Then he leans down and kisses the pale shoulder lightly. The elf relaxes from previous unknown tension.  
“Say what you want me to do.” Bull states and Varacen knows what he’ll say, knows he won’t hesitate, not anymore.  
“You to take the oil on the bedside table slick your fingers, stretch me open till I’m begging you to fuck me, then pound me senseless till I can’t think and can feel your cock in my throat.” Varacen says feeling his cock thrum at the thought. He’d entered a point he no longer cared, just wanted to see Bull smile and hear that praise.  
“Good answer. Now spread your knees, yeah just like that, perfect, Varacen. Don’t move.” Bull murmurs and Varacen blushes but smiles slightly pleased he was making Bull want him. Then he feels the oil drip onto his ass and has to fight not to twitch at the cold but he does at the touch which earns him a spank across his ass which makes him whimper out a moan. He flushes as that same hand rubs away the pain squeezing lightly and making it hard to resist squirming. Then he can feel the bed dip and sucked in a sharp breath, Bull wouldn’t but then there’s a soft swipe over his hole and he whimpers. He was so happy he was one to clean himself thoroughly.  
“Bull!” Varacen gasps face flushed hot and skin beginning to feel rough from rubbing against the sheet. He bit his lip but Bull let it pass, wanting to hear that voice beg him. Varacen couldn’t keep himself quite not feeling that tongue prying him open.  
“Fuck! Please, please… Bull, oh! Nnnhhh….” Varacen cries out body jerking as Bull licked into him, prepping him gently for what was next. Bull pulled back leaving Varacen shaking and whimpering he smirked and when the elf opened dazed eyes he licked his lips growling as he can still taste the sharp clean tang of the herbal soap Lavellan used.  
“You taste good, Lavellan.” Bull teases and the elf makes the sweetest little cry as Bull swipes his thumb over the hidden pucker. He quickly slicks his fingers losing patience as it was obvious Lavellan wasn’t thinking anymore and he wanted to just fuck the little tease. He pressed just the first knuckle in and groaned feeling how tight the elf was made his cock twitch. Varacen gasped and panted feeling the stretch in every bit of his body and feeling the word on his tongue like a bright burst of coppery blood. But he holds on for Bull and himself.  
Bull pressed on withdrawing after the elf could finally take one finger reslicked two then pressed back in making the elf arch as if trying to run away but Bull chuckles hand steadying the elf which makes Varacen relax and lean into the touch eyes hooding as his body shook from strain. Bull was slow, and very through and just kept at it going to four fingers and smirking as he kept rubbing that hidden bundle of nerves.  
“Bull! Fuck me please, please!” Varacen begged finally after momentarily slipping so far he’d been whimpering in Dalish. Bull had barely restrained his urge to fuck the elf at the sound of the ancient tongue, he liked hearing that kind of slip when they broke down and spoke their first language. Varacen let out a relived sighed whimper when Bull pulled away, but whimpered shortly after missing the full feeling, but Bull solved that quickly. After slicking his cock he wrapped an arm around Varacen hoisting him up and back so he straddled his lap. The elf yelped then flushed as he felt Bull’s cock rub against his ass rubbing and catching at his hole for just a moment.  
“Say it again.” Bull growls and Varacen does no hesitation gasping out the same plead only to cry out again in elvish as Bull thrusts into him. Bull froze and Varacen was break neck tense eyes screwed shut teeth grit and body shivering. Bull pet the shaking sides and kissed the craned neck growling as the elf sank onto his cock, he stopped him from sinking further when the elf made a choked noise he wasn’t certain he heard correctly.  
“What was that, boss?” Bull asks and Lavellan growls at him looking back at him body giving tiny shudders at small intervals.  
“I didn’t say stop!” Hissed Lavellan blushing to an extent hinting he was highly embarrassed by what he had said. Bull nods trusting Varacen and the elf looks grateful, until Bull’s cock effortlessly rubbed against his sweet spot. Then the elf became a puddle head flying back and a mute scream leaving him as his body spasmed. Bull gave in and adjusted the elf before thrusting seeing only a dazed flush with no pain he started thrusting harder making Lavellan scream in pleasure bordering on pain but never crossing that line. The elf was whimpering broken phrases part common part elvish and making Bull go mad and go at him harder until a growl at Varacen’s ear set him off and he came with a chocked off moan. Bull came shortly after his cock getting milked dry by the velvet channel that had taken him to the root. He pulled back gently swiping the leaking cum back into the elf holding his thumb there as a plug and snickering as the elf squirmed from oversensitivity.  
“You did good boss.” Bull says softly and it’s worth it to see those green eyes flick away shy of such praise. Bull kissed the exposed throat one last time before gently untying the redhead and rubbing him down with a damp rag, obviously the elf cleaned before he went to bed. Bull pulled a blanket over the elf then left after dressing. He stopped Liliana who had wanted to supposedly give Varacen reports. Bull suspected she either wanted to investigate the racket or distract the elf, neither were necessary any longer. He stopped her and they went back down leaving the Dalish to his sleep.  
Guilt, fear, they were fire in his lungs, chocking pulling ripping and he was frozen cold as ice and still as stone. He watched the bandits destroy everyone and he could only watch from afar because he had been too late. Blood pooled around him until he was drowning sinking into the floor and fighting clawing to escape but can’t, pulled lower voices asking why, blaming screaming in agony. The stench of blood and death fills his nose and he tastes copper only barely above the pit he’s sinking into and he sees a human lord watching from a distance laughing. Black and just one voice.  
‘Join us, ma vhenan. Ar lath ma.’ Is whispered in his ear. His eyes snap open, when did he close them? And he is surrounded by red, black thorns impale bodies of his clan mates all mutilated past the point of recognition. He turned as his blood freezes in his veins. No can’t be, not right, not possible, can’t be real. There behind him was a young elf hardly an adult, head cocked to the side staring with both hands held out, impaled up right on a thorn, the spike sticking awkwardly out of his neck.  
‘Join us big brother.’  
Varacen woke up with a scream falling out of bed he scrambled and pressed himself to a wall curling into a tiny ball and shaking wide eyed, just staring aimlessly. He rocked back and forth and thanked the creators the balcony doors had been shut, he just prayed no one heard him scream. His room was far removed so no one should have. He wept into his knees, why, why was all he could ask in his mind. He stood and shakily pulled on another pair of soft deer skin pants and a tight fitting deep green shirt that went well with him, then some dark travel boots, he needed to walk, he wasn’t going to be able to sleep. He needed to be him not Herald or Inquisitor just Varacen Lavellan. Though his dark green vallaslin over his left eye of twining vines ousted him as the Inquisitor combined with his blood red hair and pointy ears.  
He walked down it was after all dark, he’d fought Bull shortly before the chargers would finish and mark the end of the day for most not on guard duty. Thinking of Bull brought a flush to his cheeks and he felt a strange satisfaction with each step as it sent mild pain through his hips, ass and thighs. He just walked humming to calm his nerves, but the images wouldn’t leave. He needed to run, needed the forest, needed to set something on fire. He could not lose control, not now. He walks down the main hall past the open door leading to the ground floor of the library, but didn’t stop, he was inside his own head. Nothing was registering in his head but the thoughts chasing themselves.  
“Lethallin.” Solas says curiously tilting his head as Varacen walked by. Varacen jumps and yelps whirling on his heel to blink at Solas in confusion and at first panic as he’d reached for blades that were absent. He calmed down closing his eyes he shook and tried not to break down.  
“Yes, Solas? I’m sorry I… I’m preoccupied.” Varacen states unable to say it, wounds too fresh and knew, his eyes burn and he knows the other elf can see it. Solas’ eyes widened in surprise at seeing the wet gleam of tears in Varacen’s eyes.  
“You’re up at a late hour, the Ambassador said something came up in the war room that hit you hard, and that you would be taking a forced few days to relax. You were upset earlier though, you were not yourself. Would you like to talk?” Solas offers seeing the pain in those green eyes made him concerned as Varacen never looked about to break down. He was always smiling and happy for his companions.  
“I… My Clan…” Varacen had to stop he was fighting not to cry and Solas could tell. He reached out and placed a hand on the other’s shoulder and led him to the couch that sat in his little area under the library. He sat by the troubled elf watching him bury his face in his hands looking defeated which was almost as terrifying as nearly getting ousted by Cole.  
“You can talk to me Lethallin.” Solas encouraged and Varacen was actually crying. He lifted his head and blinked struggling to speak, mouth working but no words coming out.  
“They’re dead. I didn’t send help in time.” Varacen chokes out before he’s back to crying pain radiating off him in waves. Solas gently pulled him into his side and let him lean on him. He didn’t know what to tell the other elf. Varacen had never cried in front of any of them, for it to happen to him, the one who couldn’t relate well to any of them. He watched the other fight to control himself then pulling back and looking apologetic.  
“Ir abelas. It… I haven’t. How do you handle being alone?” Varacen finally asks looking at the hedgemage, Solas had evidently been alone, but dealing with it was different. Varacen had this silly hope he’d get to go back, he had to; his Clan had always needed him. He wasn’t just a hunter. Solas was uncertain what to say. He had never really been alone.  
“I wouldn’t know lethallin. I had my friends in the fade. I was never alone truly.” Solas answers and Varacen nods looking at the opposite wall anguish silently screaming in his eyes.  
“Ma serannas. I’ll go now, and leave you to… Do whatever you’ll be doing in the fade tonight.” Varacen says and stands needing to move. Solas can see it in the way the other’s hands are twitching. Varacen walks away with a soft farewell at his back, he walked out then down to the sparring ring, no one was around so he went to the dummies and noticed Sera was asleep, the window was closed and no candles were burning. Varacen looked at the dummies and growled crouching low he did a swift turn as he leaned over planting his hands down and slammed a foot into the straw filled chest, a satisfying thud met his ears as he flipped himself back and turned staying down low. He launched forward and slammed a palm into the upper chest area then swept his leg around stopped before hitting wood where a knee would have been, the stepped back. At this point the enemy would be on the floor.  
“You’re awake?” A deep voice asks causing Varacen to jump and whirl around clenching his hands. It was Bull, the elf relaxed only slightly his heart still hammering at his ribcage trying to escape. His face heated and he couldn’t look Bull in the eye.  
“I couldn’t sleep.” Varacen bit out, the anger kept vying with pain for front row in his emotions. He calmed himself down and rubbed his face, wanting to sleep but unable to due to what he’d seen. Bull saw it, he’d seen the way night terrors affected people. He’d seen it in Krem, and other members of the Chargers. Bull felt his chest twinge, the elf standing in front of him looking between his fingers at the floor was the same elf who looked at him with hardened eyes and said to sound a retreat for the Chargers. Then told Gatt to stuff it not just once but twice.  
“You need to talk Boss?” Bull asks, he didn’t talk he beat out his problems, but Varacen wasn’t Qunari, he was Dalish. Varacen let his hands fall to his side looking at Bull shocked. He looked at the dummy and bit his lip, his hands clenching again.  
“Can I be honest with you Bull? If I tell you something I’ve hidden this whole time will you change the way you look at me?” Varacen asks. Bull looks confused but shakes his head. Varacen looks nervous and turns and gestures Bull forward. Varacen concentrates as he senses Bull move closer, not hear exactly as the giant could move damn near silently. When he opens his eyes a small flame flickers in his palm. Bull hisses in surprise but doesn’t draw away, only looks at Varacen in surprise.  
“You’re a mage?” Bull asks and Varacen blushes grinning slightly with a nod. He closed his hand extinguishing the fire and watching the smoke curl around his hand then up into the air between them until he was looking at Bull’s expression.  
“I’m more than just a hunter. I wasn’t the Keeper, I was something else entirely. My Clan is… Was… Different.” Varacen says going from looking happy to depressed in a flash that pain making Bull want to grab him. He does he grabs the elf and drags him into the tavern, buys two drinks then goes to his room. Varacen looks at the alcohol reluctantly, the last time he drank had been after killing the Ferelden Frostback. That had him flirting shamelessly, and drunk enough to continue flirting long after his first failure. The Chargers said he was bubbly and a happy drunk and had been a shameless flirt. By Krem’s account he’d practically been hanging off of Bull.  
“You need a drink.” Bull states flatly.  
“I need to stop thinking about it. It’s just… How could this happen? I know my hunters and warriors. Bandits shouldn’t have given them this big of a problem. Not the run of the mill ones anyway. This… Is this real? Could I just be in the Fade dreaming and imagining this? The war is real I know, but… Telanadas, even my men can fall. Fuck. I want to hear them one more time.” Varacen admits tears falling, crying the second time that night and feeling hot shame at the act, he shouldn’t be crying. He should get shitfaced and forget, but he can’t. He’d made a promise.  
“Boss…” Bull starts but Varacen stood breath coming in sharp quick gasps.  
“No, Bull, don’t please, I can’t, I swore to my Keeper I wouldn’t drink if in grief, it sends me to a dark place.” Varacen states tersely handing the drink back and turning trying to run from the giant and what he was feeling in his chest for said giant. Bull grabbed him again and he broke he froze and just stared shutting down. If he could hide he could survive. Conceal, don’t feel, be the shadow you’ve trained to be, Varacen repeated in his mind. Bull saw the shut down after a split flash of pain and longing. Varacen looked up wanting to electrocute the Qunari but he held himself in check.  
“Boss, I was going to say I can help you again, going out to the ring, you vent, or… Other ways.” Bull lets the offer hang and the mask shatters with the look of surprised shock. Never stayed more than once, was never wanted more than once, was never needed. This was dangerous, he was feeling things he never felt and it was scaring him.  
“Bull… Stop.” Varacen whispers drawing back so he was pressed to a door, his heart was racing and his head was filled with so much fluff he may as well be drunk and he was shaking and scared and longed for more. Yet he hadn’t said the word. Bull only smirked and leaned in on the elf as Varacen tried to press back further only to be flush with the old wood. His breath misted and he realized he’d dropped the temperature around them and there was frost coating the hand Bull had by the wrist. Bull made his control slip, the danger was intoxicating and sickeningly grounding.  
“Hehe… Losing control… No, no, no, not good.” Varacen chuckles nervous and breathing in unsteady gasps dizzy from lack of air and how close Bull was, and how small he felt. He could hurt them both, or kill Bull. That was sickening. He jerked trying to break the hold on him panic setting in as he realized his hand was now incased in a thin layer of ice.  
“Parshaara!” Bull snaps seeing Varacen panic, and his control slip farther and father. It’s like a whip cracks the ice chips into snow and the temperature rises to where it had been, which wasn’t much warmer, but slightly better. Varacen was shaken and looked like he’d be sick.  
“Bull… I need you to either let go or break me. Take the magebain poison I know you have force it down my throat and do something, but you have to let me go or I’ll lose it.” Varacen states shakily looking at the hand on his wrist and noticing his mark flare up and cast an eerie glow to Bull’s face.  
“Sex won’t help your control.” Bull snickers letting go watching as the elf slumps against the door shaking and looking confused and hurt, and still anguished.  
“No, but it is a great distraction. Besides, you hinted at it already. I haven’t said that word. I… I don’t know what I need anymore, I needed to believe I was protecting my Clan. I don’t have that anymore. Like I was holding to two edges on a cliff stable but strained then one crumbled and I’m struggling to hold on from the shock of losing that grip. Is this the same for you?” Varacen asks needing to know he wasn’t feeling it alone, needing to know he had at least one other person. Bull nods, it was an apt metaphor. Varacen stood and stepped closer just to rest his forehead on the broad chest.  
“I know I must lead, I just don’t know how. I’ve done decently so far. How does a spy lead millions?” Varacen asks looking up desperate for some guidance, needing the reassurance he could do this. Bull could see the signs; this was threatening to burn Varacen out. That would be bad. He was not willing to ‘re-educate’ the Inquisitor, it would destroy him.  
“I know a spy can make decisions that would have broken men who’ve claimed to be better. Kneel on the bed after stripping down.” Bull states and Varacen hesitates a moment before nodding and looking down stepping around the wall of muscle that was The Iron Bull. After stripping down he got on the bed kneeling at the foot like Bull asked, Bull found a few leather strips deciding they’d do he tied a few together then gave a firm whack to the pale back getting a sharp hiss of pain and arched spine. It grounded the elf though who looked back with a soft whimper. Bull hit him several more times like that watching the elf just grit his teeth and take the pain.  
“Good boy.” Bull says surprised when the tension disappears and the taunt back goes slack. Varacen let out a shaky breath and looked hesitantly back, worried he’d done something wrong. Bull was watching him and had a look that just screamed lust, it made the elf freeze, Bull was grinning at him and that was odd.  
“Bull?” Varacen asks uncertain needing but not certain of what, then there’s a hand wrapped around the back of his neck and he lets out a whimper. His hands twitch but a warning growl from Bull stops him. He stills and bows his head getting a pleased rumble.  
“You alright?” Bull asks and Varacen blinks turning his head as far as he could looking at Bull surprised.  
“Yeah, nothing I didn’t need.” Varacen answers. Shifting which makes the marks burn but he only relaxes the pain distracts him keeping him less focused. Bull smirks and runs a nail over the marks making the elf shiver.  
“On all fours, I didn’t do something right if you’re still walking.” Bull states teasing grinning at the blush and faint snicker from the elf, who follows his orders, even spreading his knees. Varacen knew what he needed in bed, he needed to let go but he’d always been needed to be the one in control. Bull caressed and pet him soothing him and calming him making his head drop forward then a tongue laps over the red welts left by the leather. Bull feels the shudder and continues exploring and purring out praise for how Varacen listened or took what he was given, the elf was shaking and fighting to keep behaving. Bull sensed it and so snuck a hand between the spread thighs to give the twitching cock a stroke and squeeze.  
“No cuming till I say, got it?” Bull growls and Varacen lets his head drop submissively.  
“Yes, Bull.” He answers plainly relaxing again as he gave up all his control to Bull, all he was for was for Bull’s enjoyment, if he could please him he’d be fine. Bull kept him at a state of wound up bliss almost too much but never enough for hours until the elf’s voice gave and he collapsed body shaking so much he couldn’t hold himself up, so Bull held him up as he fucked him and Varacen swore he was torn, but didn’t care, he wasn’t in any pain, they’d past that long ago but Bull was huge, he could feel the cock thrusting into him each time, threatening to be too much this time. Varacen was barely holding himself back and his hands loosely held onto the arm at his waist as Bull’s other hand was at his throat, a soothing weight and pressure.  
“Please… Please Bull… Too much.” Varacen pants voice rough from crying out and then teeth at his shoulder and he jerks barely holding on enough to keep himself in check.  
“Alright, cum for me.” Bull pants and Varacen chokes as Bull strokes him, he whites out everything blasted with pleasure. He’s vaguely aware of Bull shouting and thrusting hard several times as he came, but he passed out as he came down from his high obliterated and lax in Bulls hold. Bull chuckled pleased the elf was out this time. He hesitated but decided to just clean up and turn in, it was late, and the Chargers were all passed out already. Varacen could stay here a night.


	2. Still Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving along Varacen is in grief mode but things can always get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So last chapter you met my cute Varacen who just seemingly lost his clan. Time to see the morning after effects.   
> Warning: It’s Inquisition, what more of a warning do you need? Smut and awkwardness and Lavellan being uncertain and causing everyone to find him adorable.   
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, I am a nobody and the world will forget me within the next five seconds.

When Bull woke up, Varacen was long gone the spot in bed cold and his cloths gone. Bull sighed. Awkward shit was sure to ensue. First he went and spoke to Lilianna about investigating Wycome. She agreed, and then he went back to the tavern. Varacen wasn’t used to staying at Skyhold for long periods of time without a set regime on what he was doing. Eventually the elf would wander into the tavern to speak with Sera or Cole, or something. Bull expected to be avoided or for the elf to act like nothing had happened. Instead Varacen did something shocking.  
When Varacen woke up he was cuddled to Bull’s side he drew away carefully then dressed and calmly walked out. After leaving and heading towards Cullen’s rooms he just sat on the floor and leaned on the battlement between both rooms. What was he doing? What did he want? He cared for Bull but how could he show that? As far as he knew Qunari didn’t love. It was what Bull had said, then again he’d never really loved, cared deeply and loved people like family and friends but to love?   
To look upon another after battle and heave a sigh of relief that they are whole and alive and still with you? To see them and feel everything will somehow turn out alright so long as they stand beside you? Seeing them smile or hearing them laugh and feel content and happy simply because they are, or feel as if you’ve failed when they are not. Varacen had never felt as if he had found someone who could match and understand him. Then he’d met Bull, the Qunari warrior who was a spy, who cared for his Chargers and had felt so torn as to need to be given an order by his ‘Boss’.   
“Shiiiiiiit.” Varacen whined into his knees, having pulled them up to his chest to bury his face in as he wrapped his arms around his legs tight to his chest and started rocking on his feet, a habit he’d had since he was small… er. He was in love with a man that thought such feelings were useless and flippant. He’d felt right though, under the same man, heavy hands tracing welts and a hot tongue that made him quiver with just the barest lick. Varacen shivered just thinking of it, feeling his cock harden at just the thought of submitting to the other, that wasn’t who he was meant to be. He was the leader, the one to help his men and be in Bull’s position. He wasn’t supposed to need this.   
“What have I done? Mythal, please, should you honestly wish this on me I shall bear it, but why? Why give my heart a path set for ruin? Is this a test?” Varacen asks softly raising his head to look at the sky, unsurprised when he saw Solas standing nearby. He stood and stared at the other, waiting for some comment but the other’s eyes held understanding.   
“Breakfast will be served soon, I thought to find you and ask if you are coming. Cole told me you were here. He’s worried.” Solas says voice soft and soothing and Varacen nods looking out over the battlements. He sighs and rubs away the evidence of his crying and pushes back his hair.   
“I will join… I’ll see if Bull is still in the Tavern, and would like to join or if he’s eating with his Chargers.” Varacen says looking out over the frosty peaks. If he could chose a word for this whole mess it would be shit. First his Clan is destroyed and then he is forced to acknowledge he cares deeply for a Qunari spy who turned away from the Qun.   
“Don’t give up; he no longer lives under the Qun.” Solas says giving the elf a light hug, which shocks the other before he pulls away and leaves. Varacen swallows hard, and turns toward Bull’s door. He goes and hesitates before opening it, he relaxed when he saw no one was there, then tensed back up when he walked down to the ground floor of the tavern. He spotted Bull and froze his emotions conflicting and he hated himself for it. He had to be a leader damn it. He squared his shoulders and stalked up, pretending to be nonchalant he grinned and succeeded in even fooling himself.   
“Hey, you coming to breakfast with the rest of us or have The Chargers already taken you up?” Varacen asks and Bull actually takes a moment trying to read him. Instead Varacen just faked relaxation, if he acted fine, he was fine. There was nothing he could do, they were gone. He could not change the past; he couldn’t need what Bull offered, he had to be strong to stand proud.   
“You can’t pretend your fine forever.” Bull states and Varacen glares a snarl curling his lip.  
“I’ve done so for a long, long time, I can and will endure.” Varacen states glaring and Bull has the gall to smirk.  
“You want it.” Bull retorts and Varacen’s eyes widen as his face flames with a flush. He looks away sharply his hands curling into tight fists at his sides.  
“It’s not what I want, nor about what I want. It’s about what I need and can’t have.” Varacen admits turning on his heel to leave Bull stands and grabs one of the wrists causing the elf to stop and look back.  
“I’ll come with you; the Chargers haven’t dragged their collective arses outta bed, yet. Any time you need, boss.” Bull whispers the last part and Varacen flushed as he relaxed and Bull let go. They walked to join the others and when they sat down the three advisors were sharing looks that set Varacen on edge. Cullen broached the topic.  
“There are reports of not only red lyrium in Wycome… but… A spy reported a group of prisoners, most likely elves that were being held for tests and to sate the nobles…” Varacen locked their gazes. He stood he was going, he was going to kill and maim and make them pay, the fire that lit in his eyes scared the group who’d never seen the elf like this. Except Bull, Bull felt his cock twitch at that wild look, and Solas felt himself shiver at the power pouring off the angry elf.  
“Then they will pay, and I will kill any who stand in my way. Don’t you dare try and stop me. The ball is several months to come, and we are still looking into Adamant. I’m going to Wycome, and those noble bastards will know true fear.” Varacen snarls as he walks out hair flaring around his shoulders wildly. The Inner Circle all stared in open shock at how the elf had responded. As soon as he was in the room Varacen pulled on his dark armor started his bladed and daggers in place and wrapped the rope around his thigh before walking down shocked when he saw his friends standing in the Hall.  
“Which of us are coming with you?” Solas asks and Varacen blinks for some reason not having expected them to want to leave. Varacen blinked confused and surprised. He gestured Varric, Iron Bull and Dorian forward.  
“I need a silver tongue that can keep a cool head, Dorian wouldn’t stay behind if Cullen offered to give him a strip tease and I can trust Bull to drag my arse back if need be. Solas, Cassandra and Blackwall, you three can keep things running in my place and help Cullen, Lilliana and Josephine. I trust you three to keep level heads. Cole, Sera, and Vivienne, do… What you do best, keep the nobles here in line, keep moral up and… I don’t know freeze assholes who step out of bounds. Or if need be, Cassandra ask Vivienne to step in. She can play the game, and can spot about as much as Lilliana if pressed… You all don’t realize what this means to me. You don’t have to help me with petty revenge.” Varacen admits looking down he understands what he is doing could be considered petty in most lights, in fact he’d call it petty, but he had to. He needed it to make the nightmare stop.   
“Is it petty? You can’t even sleep.” Solas states and Varacen smiles at that. He should have known the other elf would know. He turns and goes to the stables with his three friends at his side. He pulls himself into the saddle of the Tirashan Swiftwind he preferred ridding and watched as the others mounted their steeds, Bull getting on a Green Dales Feral, Varric on an Amaranthine Charger, and Dorian on an Imperial Warmblood. All fit their rider. Varacen would not tolerate fools, neither would his steed, and the Feral was a breed that could actually carry Bull, where the Charger and Warmblood complemented their riders. They rode.   
It had been a long ride and several weeks to reach the city. Josephine had sent word ahead saying the Inquisitor wished to see his Clan’s camp to say last goodbyes and do the burial rites. When they arrived they were welcomed and the Duke was gracious. Varacen smiled and played the Game. When they reached the bloodied clearing though Varacen chocked up. Seeing the dead, it hurt him as he saw the bodies of warriors and halla, even a child. He hit the floor seeing the burned husk of where the children would have hidden. He stared in horror. He was in shock.   
“This is where the children would have been.” Varacen states eyes sweeping over the floor and seeing several hunters dead as if in defense. He was going to be sick. He stood and stumbled into the trees and vomited. His form shook and tears burned his eyes, why had he come? Then a hand is on his back soothing him.  
“You can do this Boss.” Bull’s voice is like a balm. Varacen takes deep breaths wipes at his mouth sighs and pulls out a flask of alcohol to wash out the taste spitting it to the side. Bull raises a brow at the beverage and Varacen looks away leaning on the tree.   
“I need something to get me through this and get the taste out of my mouth.” Varacen says voice weak, his body shaking from the shock. Bull pins him to the tree and kisses him, it’s slow, claiming and making Varacen relax. When he pulled back the elf was crying silently.  
“Don’t not here. I was the one who had to give them what they needed never the one who needed.” Varacen whispers feeling too small, too weak. Bull pulls back. He’d get around this. Obviously the elf did need it. The others said nothing as Varacen scanned the camp and made a mental list. The Keeper, The Second, the crafter and Varacen’s two trusted as well as five other of his Clan were missing. Several hunters and all the women and children were dead.   
“I’ll need to dig graves for them. Go I can… I need to do this on my own.” Varacen says, voice wavering as he turns away to start digging with a shovel he’d brought with him. He is thankful when they leave him to it. He digs a star laying the children at the center he lays the hunters and others in the points and plants a tree in the center and at each of the points before placing a marker so he can commission a statue or plaque. He is worn thin, needing rest. He led them back to the city and rented rooms. They listen for a while and all are left uneasy. This red rock filter sounds like red Lyrium. The humans were sick but not the elves whose water had yet to be filtered. Things were adding up.   
“We’ll go and talk more with the Duke tomorrow.” Varacen says and heads to bed. He wakes up disoriented and in a cell arms bound behind him shackled to a wall. He groans around the gag in his mouth from the pounding in his head. Then there’s a venatori in front of him and he stares at them blankly. They can’t break him, many had tried and failed. They’d only proved what he’d thought. The Duke would die. Varacen was dragged to a new cell and tortured. His Clan was held as a bargaining chip. They made him scream in agony but they couldn’t break him. He hung there, burns and pain lashing him.   
“Go and fuck yourself.” He spits in a vint’s face after getting questioned. He feels the blade in his side and the fire licking at his skin and screams tears pouring down his face until he can only whimper. He hears the doors burst open and sags in his binds fearing this was it, they’d lost patience. Then he sees Bull enter and feels worse. He has to look like he’d been eaten alive by a dragon then spat back out. He watched wide eyed, though he could only open one, he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t see out of it actually, he’d blacked out that session. He hissed in pain when a dagger digs into his neck.   
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Bull states walking a little closer looking menacing. Dorian slips in behind him but drops his staff a horrified look on his face when he sees the elf. Varacen lets out a whine when a burning hand drifts close to his side. Then Varric steps in and his eyes flash in rage at seeing Varacen’s state. Varacen can’t move, he’s too weak, so if his group needed him to they were screwed. Too little food and water, and no strength after fighting since he’d been kidnapped, made him weak as a kitten. He hung limp and tried to breathe as the blade dug into sensitive flesh.   
“Back off!” The vint shouts and Varacen begins to see black and gives in. When he wakes again it’s to see his Keeper leaned over him with her second both looking worried as they tended to him. He still couldn’t see out of his left eye. He tries to say how sorry he is, tears gathering in his good eye. The Keeper smiles gently, as she wipes them away.   
“Hush, ma falon. We are safe thanks to you and your friends. You could not have known the Duke was with these venatori, he himself did not. Your Qunari friend is… He is not at ease. You should talk to him.” Istimaethoriel says gently, Varacen nods and she and her second leave. Moments later Bull comes in. Varacen remembers how he must look and wishes the blankets were higher suddenly.  
“Hey Boss.” Bull says, voice soft, as if afraid of setting off a deer. Varacen gives a shaky smile in reply, patting the spot next to him. His left hand is movable his right hurts too much to consider it. Bull sits and gently brushes some hair back from his blind side. Varacen feels so small next to the qunari.   
“Red Lyrium was the problem. The Duke died protecting your Keeper from some crazed nobles, the merchants banded together to help against the insane bastards. We sent word to Cullen and he’s sent some Inquisition soldiers. They’re fortifying the city. Ruffles sent an Ambassador and they’re destroying most of the lyrium under Varric’s supervision. You alright?” Bull fills him in and asks after him, the large hand is such a soft touch to his still raw cheek, almost as if Bull is scared of really touching him. Is it that bad? He’s kinda numb mostly, he wonders how bad it is, but knows he also doesn’t want to know. If it’s as bad as he thinks he definitely doesn’t want to know.  
“I… I really don’t know. I can’t feel most of my body which is probably a blessing, and I have yet to see how it looks. How… How bad is it?” Varacen asks voice fading out as he sees Bull look away for a short moment and his heart picks up in pace and his throat tightens. That wasn’t good. Then he remembers them walking in, Dorian looking sick and dropping his staff.  
“Please say the reason I can’t see out of my left eye isn’t because they removed it.” Varacen says voice soft but panicked, and sharp in fear. Bull pursed his lips and removed his hand and leaned forward so he couldn’t look the Inquisitor in the eye.  
“I gotta go. Your Keeper wants back in.” Bull says getting up and leaving allowing the two other elves back in. Varacen was having a panic attack, breath coming quick and sharp, hyperventilating. She cast a sleep spell and sighed. Varacen had a bit of a vain streak in him, but for good reason, the elf was gorgeous. Varacen was the best looking elf in Clan Lavellan. They healed what they could until the army of marchers came. Cullen’s men gave them pause, and Varacen as Inquisitor came to say the city was under their protection. Then the ambassador handled negotiations. Varacen sighed in relief when the army turned away saying it was a misunderstanding.   
“I can’t go to the Winter Palace like this can I? I’d terrify the nobles. Can I play the game while looking like a battle worn savage elf that they already fear?” Varacen sighs not expecting nor receiving an answer, and feeling pain radiate from his whole body as they ride home. He’d said tearful goodbyes to his Clan save two who were going to accompanying him, they were his two closest. He knew the others were dead so allowed them to come. The Clan would be safer this way. He was stuck riding side saddle on his hart and his companions were bringing a few Royal Sixteen Harts, regal beasts by far. Varacen was in severe pain when they finally got back the medicine for pain having run out earlier in the day.  
“Welcome… Back.” Josephine says shocked by Varacen’s appearance, her smile fading from shock. Varacen gave a weak grin as he gingerly unsaddled. He looked grisly with bandages covering the left side of his face and most of his uncovered skin though that was little due to the loose but warm covering cloths. The venatori had gouged out his eye and left an ugly scar, thankfully only the small area was affected but it still left shame in Varacen. Every scar did. He’d gotten caught and marred and the nightmares made him relive every moment. He would never sleep a full night again.   
“I feel safer here, though glad to be back is not how I’d describe it. I guess I’ll be wearing a mask to the ball then. Please consider the fact a great deal of me is now covered in burns still healing which will leave nasty scars. The cloth will have to be soft and easy on tender skin.” Varacen jokes grin faltering as he was not proud of the way he looked anymore. He was admittedly vain, not to Dorian’s extent but vain nonetheless. He hated how he must appear.   
“Are you alright?” Josephine asks alarmed as she rushes to Varacen’s side placing a hand hesitantly on his left shoulder. Varacen winces slightly but nods as he looks away. He was honestly ashamed of these wounds. He’d been taken in the dead of night somehow without waking him. He deserved the marks. He just wished he didn’t, that they were not as severe that he wasn’t ugly.   
“I’m fine. Only missing an eye and covered in burns. Nothing concerning. I need to see Solas. And get something to dull the pain. Too bad there’s nothing I can do about the scars.” Varacen sighs walking away already just wanting the pain to dull and get some semblance of rest. Josephine was shocked by how subdued the elf was, normally cheerful, though this whole ordeal seemed to affect the elf negatively. The two elves that had come with him pursed their lips.  
“He feels like he deserves what he got because he got caught but feels like death may have been a kinder fate. He’s always been vain, for good reason, I mean he's still gorgeous, and half the shit he has done in the Game was only managed because he was the pretty elf everyone wanted, and no one realized he was picking their pockets or brains. He thinks he’s ugly now and not worth what he was.” One of the two notes sadly. The other shakes his head.  
“He will always be our leader though. He is still beautiful and any who dare say otherwise are either blind or fools.” The other states with a growl both share a look. Bull notices how they behave, they were either twins or had been raised around one another since their birth. Dorian bit his lip in thought and walked away muttering about something, and Bull walked to the tavern to meet with his boys. He wondered how the elf could be so vain yet so ready to jump into the thick of things and not complain. Then Cole appeared by Varacen who let out a yelp jerking away. Then he gasped in pain and gingerly touched his side streatched painfully by the jump.   
“I’m sorry. You’re hurt… I should have walked over…” Cole says and Varacen gives a nervous laugh gently saying it was fine. Cole stared at him a moment head tilting slightly trying to figure things out. Varacen shakes his head looking desperate, knowing Cole might start reading him. He couldn’t handle it. Cole understands but fidgets as the elf quickly leaves finding Solas in his usual haunt. He hesitates though, almost scared the other may call him out for completely butchering the job he’d set for himself about himself. He walks in quite as a ghost and waits for the other to notice him.   
“What happened? Did it go as you… planed…” Solas asks turning and what he had been about to say fading off. Varacen looks to the left to hide the evidence as childish as the attempt is. Solas can feel the conflict in the other.  
“No. I was captured and they tortured me for information my silence bought my surviving Clanmates time, and me new scars. I came by to see if there was something to be done for the pain, or to further the healing. I’m rather surprised I’m standing actually, the pain kicked back in several hours ago.” Varacen says his hair curtaining around him as it had been left alone due to how well it worked as a leash. Solas walked over and gently lead the other to the couch to sit him down and look at the wounds. Starting with the left side of his face.   
“Hold still, lethallin. I can’t help if you don’t let me.” Solas states when Varacen had flinched at the touch to the bandage on his face. Varacen closed his eye and nods tensing but not drawing away as Solas slowly unwinds the bandage. Solas freezes seeing the damage, it was grizzly but not as bad as Bull, which marred his whole cheek; this was localized, and would heal and merely look like a small divot where an eye should have been with perhaps some wrinkles and folds as it would never heal smoothly. He winced it was still mostly raw. He soothed it and healed it as far as he could before taking fresh cloth placing a healing poultice on it and rewrapping the eye leaving the face bare as the light nicks were healed. Then Varacen reluctantly pulled off the loose shirt with help from Solas to reveal most of his upper body wrapped up.  
“What did they do?” Solas asks in shock and Varacen bows his head in shame. He could not answer but his body shivered from mere memory of fire.  
“I don’t think I’ll be feeling well near Dorian in battle for a long time.” Varacen says confirming the red angry marks that were dry and gave off heat that were cracked and bleed in places were indeed from flame. Solas did what he could though it was not as much as he would have liked, mostly only succeeding in soothing it. Varacen was still thankful. He would not ask for further aide, as his legs had been burned but he did not wish to tax his friend further.   
“I need to check in with Cullen and them… I just hope I won’t deal with nightmares tonight. They’ve plagued me since I was rescued. I keep fearing I’ll end up back there with this just a dream.” Varacen admits looking the other elf in the eyes tears glittering in his one. He honestly feared, they had come close to breaking him, and it was terrifying. He’d never been caught, his worst enemy his own mind’s torment for failing. Now he had memories of the torment of mage fire and blades.   
“A valid fear considering the wounds I’ve seen. If you need more help find me, lethallin.” Solas says softly. Varacen nods smiling uneasily as he almost forgot how. He went and reported in filling in what he could, surprised when Bull came in with Stitches.  
“Bull, I already saw Solas.” Varacen states tensing in fear, he didn’t want one of the Chargers to see him not like this. Weak was all he could spit in his mind others would think worse. Stitches frowned.  
“Look you vain git, Magic can go a long way but poultices go even longer when used right, you’ll need my help if you want those stabs and burns healing right.” Stitches states and Varacen blinks in shock. Eye flashing betrayal as he looked at Bull.  
“You told them? What exactly do they know?” Varacen asks voice sharp and higher in tone than it would be under better circumstance. Bull gives him a flat look and Varacen relaxes left hand raising to his face as his right had been burned.   
“You need this, Boss. Stitches is the only one who knows it’s burns and cuts, nothing else.” Bull states firmly. Varacen nods and calms himself down. Feeling shame curl his gut. He was acting like a shem noble with their cloths destroyed. So what he’d been marred? Not like it wasn’t bound to happen.   
“I’m sorry, I’m just on edge. I can’t see half of what I’m used to and I don’t want to be seen as the weak elf that ended up in a cell like a cliché.” Varacen admits shaking his head as he swallowed thickly. He was a bit shaky as he listened to what Bull told them. He twitched when Bull got to when he was found. Stitches came over to look at his wrists then, the concern making Varacen feel guiltier than he already had. Stitches was kind about the way the elf was uneasy and didn’t mess with the eye staying with the arms and hands.   
“You’ll want to take this poultice and apply it over the burns, Chief knows how if ya need help.” Stitches says gently before disappearing. Varacen felt guilt and reminded himself to buy the Ferelden a drink later. He tried to open the jar but his burnt hand couldn’t hold the jar without severe pain, nor open it without the same. He let out a shaky sigh as he set it down. He didn’t like asking for help, not that he was over proud, he just didn’t like relying on someone else and having them fail, hurt or killed as was often the case.   
“Bull… Can I get your help with this?” Varacen asks noticing the bandage around his hand was now bloody from him pressing the injured skin too hard. Bull looked over and saw the way the elf looked and felt concern. There was an edge in the way he stood that spoke volumes on what he was feeling. Tension fusing itself in his shoulders, the downcast eyes and look of aggravation, and not least of all the stiff back. The elf did not enjoy this situation, especially depending on someone other than himself.   
“Yeah Boss. I’m done with my report anyway. They have the rest from us sending it in ahead. Come on.” Bull says walking up and grabbing the poultice and walking past to the Inquisitor’s room. Varacen walked behind holding his wrist and gently rubbing with his thumb at his pulse in an absentminded attempt to sooth the pain. Solas saw the blood and came over, seeing the poultice he nodded in approval as he unwound the bandage on the hand and healed where tears had appeared. He walked away without a word.  
When they reached the rooms Varacen felt his heart speed up and cringed. He didn’t want to show how bad it was. Bull set down the poultice and turned some on his fingers and took the much smaller hand in his as he started rubbing in the soothing healing paste. It took away most of the pain and dulled the heat. Varacen sighed in relief and relaxed greatly body going lax. His eyes drift closed and he hums a low noise that’s the equivalent of a purr. Bull moved around so the elf could lean on him as he continued massaging the paste into the damaged skin. Varacen blinked open his eyes when Bull stopped, about to say a soft complaint when he realized their position and flushed, with shame as he noticed Bull showed no interest.  
“You need to strip down Boss.” Bull says voice soft and coaxing and Varacen reluctantly struggles out of the shirt needing Bull’s help and feeling worse for it. Then Bull’s light touch on the burnt skin and Varacen feels soothed, there’s a concerned light in the one eye.   
“What those bastards did… You’re still beautiful.” Bull whispers tilting the elf’s head back and up to look at him, giving a gentle claiming kiss. Varacen was left panting and leaning to try and continue, chasing. Bull chuckled and Varacen’s blushed as he pulled back embarrassed. They unraveled the bandages and winced as they pulled at the skin, the paste had helped but with how it stuck it pulled at dryer skin and made it bleed or pull off completely. It wasn’t Solas’ fault the burns were this bad.  
“Shit.” Bull states seeing the way the skin was tugged and how painful it was for the elf who cringed as they unraveled the upper body bandages. Varacen winced as the bandage finally fell completely off. The elf concentrated and a glow surrounded him a few moments before he sagged exhausted. Bull held him up a moment before setting him on the bed. Varacen passed out, the magic having drained him as it was already taxing itself trying to heal him inside out. Bull took the jar and started rubbing the poultice into the chest before moving to the back then hesitating slightly rewrapped the chest and arm, then stripped the elf out of his pants and unraveled the bad leg rubbed the poultice in then did the other far better leg. Varacen didn’t wake back up but did relax and breathe soft sighs of relief. Bull cleaned off his hand and left the jar after putting the elf back in some loose pants.  
“Hey Solas, can you go check on the boss. He um… He passed out and I’m not sure it’s a good thing.” Bull says worried and uncertain of if Solas knew the other elf was a mage. Solas nods and leaves Bull alone. The Qunari walks down to hang with his boys. They’re all tense and worried. Varacen was friends with the boys. Bull said the elf would be fine, but they all knew he was just as worried.  
Varacen himself was in a strange area in dreams where it’s color with no clear concept, just blurs, nothing concerning or worrying. He felt strangely at ease, the colors reminded him of home long ago, the comforting calm of laying with one’s eyes closed under stained glass as light shone through, casting blurred colors through one’s lids. He then felt magic and his mind roused as he woke up.  
“Wha…?” Varacen hummed as he blinked his eyes open to see Solas standing above him. Solas gave a gentle smile as the other elf blinked at him confused.  
“Bull came to me and said you had passed out. He was worried.” Solas explains and the other elf nods and sits up still drowsy with sleep. Varacen looks at the other a moment before it seems to catch up what was said.   
“Oh… I’m just tired is all; haven’t been sleeping well.” Varacen explains yawning and blinking trying to stay awake for the other elf. Solas smiles and does a few tricks with his magic startled and confused.  
“You’re drained from overexerting yourself magically.” Solas states and Varacen sighs, perhaps it was time he come clean. He gestures Solas to follow him, and he gathers everyone, even his council to the herb garden and asked everyone to vanish for a bit.   
“I have not told any save The Iron Bull of a talent I possess, one that many here distrust, or openly dislike. I am a mage, but not the common wave a stick and flash some fire, frost or sparks, not to offend my three exceptional mage friends, Dorian, Madame Vivienne, and Solas. I am also a Serpent of the Dales.” Varacen states feeling his gut churn, and his two clanmates that had ridden with him bleed from the shadows to flank him on either side in a manner that portrayed them as his right and left hands.   
“So you are the great player of the Game with the goal to improve the lives of elves.” Lilliana says and the three elves nod. Varacen looks pale and nervous; scared even. He watches Casandra waiting for accusations or from anyone really, and Cullen fearing the warrior may take offense, then Lilianna if she knew that much, there was little else she knew and she may think the worst.   
“A player yes. I went to the conclave on order of my Keeper to indeed spy as she and I knew well such a meet would affect the lives of elves across Thedas. That is why I was at the Conclave, I honestly cannot remember anything else, please believe me Seeker, I have not lied to any of you, though I have kept my truest talents hidden in fear of this kind of encounter.” Varacen admits body tense and hands twitching as his eye swept over the disbelieving faces. He fully expected to become a prisoner again.   
“Then we welcome a player and friend. You have already proven yourself.” Lillianna states and as Josephine and Cullen bow their heads and give him warm smiles he relaxes greatly, then his head turns to his companions. What would they think? Varric began laughing.  
“So my books are realistic!” He chuckles and Bull snorts as Solas rolls his eyes. Varacen knows they approve, then he looks to Blackwall, Vivienne, Sera, and Dorian. Sera was looking at him as if he’d lied to her, Viv was looking at him calculating, and Dorian looked confused. Blackwall was just blinking.  
“So I’ll assume I’ll expect several revenge pranks for not openly saying I’m a mage and too ‘elfy’?” Varacen asks and Sera goes from that suspicious glare to a grin then a giggle. Varacen relaxed a little more a small hopeful smile on his lips.   
“I’m sorry, you openly mistrust magic and all things ‘elfy’ so I kept it to myself, that and all I needed was another reason for Cassandra and others to look at me and think ‘assassin kill him now he killed the Divine’.” Varacen sighs and looks away he’s trying not to cry, all he needed right now was to learn trust he had earned ran only so deep.  
“You haven’t shown any reason to mistrust you, see that continues.” Blackwall states eyeing him a moment longer suspiciously. Then the warrior shocked them walks up pats his shoulder and walks away like this was nothing. Varacen sighs in relief and seeing the two remaining mages circle him he felt curious, Solas had slipped away not bothered so much by the confession. Varacen gestured and his men relaxed as he moved so the mages circled him alone. He grew nervous head only turning slightly his mask speaking of calm confidence. When magic fire and ice flew at him from two sides he spun hand flying up to cast a flash of light as he flashed behind Vivienne, a hand at the back of her neck.  
“A test? I assure you I am well trained.” Varacen states and Dorian whistles. Both mages relax.  
“You are and weren’t lying! Why haven’t you used it in fights though?” Dorian asks, Varacen gives a half smile as he moves back from Viviennne.  
“I do. I just use it in a different manner, channeling it into my weapons and armor and using it to increase my speed and strength, even casting barriers on myself. I’m self-focused as casting outward would out me. I can cast for further aid now that you all know. My training taught not to allow my skills be fully known unless necessary. I’m what may be considered a night enchanter, though they focus more toward magic, I prefer the term Arcane Warrior, blades and armor after all. All I ask is that this not change the way you all look at the Inquisition. It’s still about helping those in need, and fixing the hole in the sky.” Varacen states before looking at Cassandra who watched him with a strange expression.  
“Why keep this hidden?” She asks, Varacen chuckles shaking his head.  
“Oh, hi I’m your prisoner, I’m a Serpent of the Dales and haven’t a clue of what happened at the conclave. You would have killed me. Do not try and frame it any other way, my Order is obscure and those who know the name haven’t a clue what we really are. I suppose you know the Order through my son, Varlan. How is he by the way? I know he has only so much time before the taint takes him.” Varacen states eye misting with tears. Lillianna is surprised.  
“He spoke highly of his father, but said he died when he was younger, saying he was a Serpent later, after he started searching a cure for Wardens. He does not wish an early death, as his joining was rather… Reluctant.” Lillianna says and Varacen nods looking away with a sigh.  
“I know the tale. He sends me letters when he can but stopped when he realized I joined this and was the ‘Herald’. To protect him and myself. We have many enemies. Just know this, we now have a network of spies and fighters that will make the Inquisition a force of legend. Could you ask he send me word as the Order is coming out of shadow? Or at least I am.” Varacen asks and Lilianna nods. Varacen sighs and walks away needing rest. This time when he sleeps it’s to nightmares of the dungeons. He wakes screaming and the bed frozen. He lays still shivering from the frost but can’t move; is too scared to.   
“Ju-just a d-dream.” Varacen whispers teeth chattering causing him to stutter as he pushes the frozen sheet off and walks down to the tavern. Drown the screams, and pain, sleep a little, he couldn’t sleep like this. Sober mind twisting and turning his pain back at him, old memories mixing with new. He sat in a corner staring at the bottle and glass not wanting to go there but wanting to. Bull came and sat with him but the elf barley acknowledged it with a curious hum.   
“The boys want to hang out.” Bull says and as Varacen looks up the Chargers take up seats at the table, at least the inner circle of them. Varacen smiles slightly but it’s brittle, his eye drops back down old pain haunting him. Krem began to hum a tune, and Varacen recognized it, a song sung by elves that he’d taught the bard, ‘I am the One’. He began murmuring the words whispering to the soft tune, feeling better at the end for the reminder.   
“Thanks Krem.” Varacen says softly looking up with his usual half smile. Krem grinned back and toasted him before taking a drink. Varacen relaxed around the Chargers and Bull, getting drunk but happy and bubbly not sullen, and a shameless flirt. It got late and hearing the elf actually sing for the Chargers was both shocking but enlightening as that voice was beautiful and soothing in its soft tones like water. Bull wanted to hear a different song though. When the elf sat in his lap grinning eyes hazed with drink but alert enough to tell Bull the elf knew what he was doing.   
“Tease.” Bull states and the elf gives a half shrug, grinning as he leaned in close.  
“What are you going to do about it?” Varacen purrs an open invitation. Bull laughs and the elf hums as he can feel it. Bull tugs the hair forcing that head back and claims those grinning lips in a forceful kiss that melts the elf against his chest. Of course Stiches speaks up.  
“His burns are too tender for that kind of song chief.” And all the Chargers are laughing as the two pull back from each other. Regret flashes in the elf’s eye as he knows sex would not be kind on him in his current state. Though he makes no move to pull back from his perch. The night grows late drinking singing and the elf staying in Bull’s lap. When it was time to turn in Bull just dragged the bubbly sloshed elf to his room. No way did anyone need to see a wasted Inquisitor hanging off Bull.   
“I don’t want to sleep, I don’t want to deal with the nightmares.” Varacen whimpers and Bull just undoes his harness and boots before tugging the elf to bed, pulling him close and waiting for the squirming to stop as the elf crashed before falling asleep himself. What the elf needed Bull would give, and right now that was someone to keep him steady and help him heal.


	3. Begining To Be Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Varacen begins to heal new troubles arise and many try to help him. Some attempts work better than others, some wind up threatening to break the Inquisitor completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So last chapter you all learned Varacen is a Serpent. Now he will be learning how to adjust to his losses and a certain newly dubbed Tal-Vashoth is determined to help him realize he’s still as good as he had been.  
> Side Note: There will be passing mention of Cascada’s ‘Bad Boy’.  
> Warnings: Graphic violence self-harm and my normal run down of angst and self-loath. P.S: When I say normal I'm referencing my Fanfiction account Emerald Ryuu Feather, just an FYI.  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own the game nor make money off this though I wish to make money off of writing one day. Just not this writing.

It had been a week since Varacen had come back. He almost wished he had died. His head was pure chaos, he never slept well, always with bloody nightmares of gut tearing agony and fire. He woke screaming more than he actually slept, and he’d taken to doing mass amounts of paper work and not taking breaks, and was even eating less. Though his hygiene he did keep up as well as his magical and physical training. His left and right hands were terrified for him. They said he had gone through phases like this before, like after he had lost his wife to a human Lord who’d not taken no for an answer. Varacen had killed the man but had worked himself to collapse after his beloved’s funeral.  
This had intrigued many of the elf’s companions. Bull heard from Dalish that meant Varacen had planted a tree for his lost love over her remains. Dorian had talked to Liliana since she knew Varacen’s son, and found the same thing. Varric had known thanks to ‘Daisy’ and had shaken his head; feeling Varacen was too young for so much shit. Solas just constantly looked worried, like Varric he was worried about the elf’s health and how this may impact him. Sera had tried cheering up the elf with several pranks but had really succeeded in nearly scaring the poor elf to death. One prank had involved locking the elf in a dark closet but it backfired when it turned out to be infested with spiders. That had been one hell of a conversation.  
“Never do that again!” Varacen had shrieked shaking and twitching and brushing at his arms in paranoia. Sera’s eyes had gotten big because the other had been near tears. She’d then tried pulling a few on some others. She managed to somehow dye Cullen’s tongue blue, which had startled a laugh out of the elf latter in the same day as the closet incident. She kept up that routine and had managed to win several chuckles and smiles but Varacen wasn’t doing good. He was jumpy and easily startled with how much he was lost in whatever he was doing. Bull had even found the elf staring out the window in his rooms from his desk. He’d been blank, his eye glassy and his face without expression. Bull had been standing in his view the entire time but when he’d tapped the desk the elf had jumped and looked up at him startled. He swore it had to end there. He got the others in on it and soon the plan was set. Liliana was told and she informed the councilors and the Inner Circle not helping with the plan.  
“Alright, so, Solas, why exactly did you want to talk all the way out here at night?” Varacen asks shivering a little as a sharp wind cut across the battlements by the section cut off by the crumbling section of wall to his right as he stared down. The only way up was one staircase, he’d hear anyone sneaking up if he could focus that long. When he got no answer he turned but only saw Solas against the wall pinned by someone in black, and then a cloth is over his face and a strong arm pins him to someone’s chest as his conscious slips away with a sweet scent, almost like fruit. He drifted but wasn’t sure how long. He was aware of talking but it was mostly mumbled nonsense to him. He thought he heard familiar tones but then again he was in a strange area between full conscious and dreams.  
“Hush, he’s beginning to wake up!” In his daze he wasn’t certain if it was his imagination or if he knew that voice. Then he’s fully awake and he stays as he is breathing steady in a slightly deeper pattern trying to act as if they’d misread him. He’d gotten good at this in the past, he hoped he could still do it. After a long pause there’s a sigh of relief.  
“No, he’s just getting out of the drugs.” That voice he recognized but he knows he doesn’t know the person; it’s an Orlesian that much he knows. He isn’t certain but knows one is behind him. He could be in a ring of nobles thinking to make sport of him for all he knows. He continues the act hoping to gain more information.  
“When do you think the boss will be back? Just two guards for The Inquisitor is a little crazy, no? He could get away easily if half the stories are true.” An Antivan’s voice this time, and behind him as well. Keeping his breathing steady he opens his eye and is relieved to find he’s in a cave and a fire is to his back nothing is truly strange, until he realizes Solas is nowhere to be seen. He groans softly and rolls onto his back but continues the deep breaths his head lolled to cover his seeing eye in shadow. He opens it and watches in a slight haze as two guards lean together looking nervous, then sighs of relief and look back at each other.  
“He must not be good with such potions. I hear they can be hard on your system if your recovering from injuries, rumor has it he was tortured. I think it a waste to mar such a pretty face; did you see what they did? The boss took one look and said he’d have killed the man to do it.” The Antivan sighed; his copper skin quite complemented by the fire where the Orlesian looked like a ghost glowing with his pasty white skin. Varacen coughed and curled up groaning in slight pain, all faked and exaggerated of course. If he played sympathy maybe he could find out more.  
“So he woke up?” A deeper voice asks and heavier footsteps tap the floor, this voice he knows is marcher, he’d guess based off how it sounds that he’s from somewhere close to where Blackwall was from. Varacen groans for real this time having hoped he’d have more time he pressed his forehead to the floor. The cool stone lowering his fever and numbing the start of a fierce headache.  
“Why… Am I here? Wha-what do you want? Where’s Solas?” Varacen grounds out keeping his teeth clenched and eye closed. The ‘Boss’ chuckles.  
“The elf is still at Skyhold, with just a small bump on his head. You’re here because you have enemies, and all I want is some information. You tell me what I want to know and maybe we see if we can get some gold for your safe return eh?” The man says smiling down at the elf arms crossed over his chest. Varacen sighed and sat up easily dropping his act, surprising the three.  
“Alright, only my Inner Circle knew I was tortured, you’re a marcher and the two guards are an Antivan and Orlesian. My wounds have been kept tended and it’s been several days as the distant noise I hear is the ocean, I’m guessing The Waking Sea, I’ve camped here before, Storm Coast. Not far from one of the Inquisition’s camps. I’ve seen all three of you there as well. Unless you’re trying to piss off the wrong elf, I’m going to assume someone put you up to this. So, what’s really going on here, ‘Boss’?” Varacen growls, glaring with a sneer. He was upset he’d been drugged and dragged all the way out here; at least he was healthy warm and hydrated, though very hungry.  
“Shit, I’d hopped you wouldn’t remember this cave.” Bull sighs walking in drenched from the seeming ceaseless rain of the coast. He looked at Varacen disappointed.  
“I’m sorry I have no patience for games. I recognized your scent before I slipped under. Why this set up? Bull, I’m tired and rather upset with the fact so many know I was captured.” Varacen is now ignoring the nervous three, honesty he wasn’t upset, they’d acted admirably, except he knew their faces. Had seen the loyalty in their eyes before. Bull sighs and sits cross legged by Varacen who wiggles to mirror the warrior.  
“You can go back to camp. You’re not in trouble.” Bull states the three look to Varacen who nods and they leave quickly. Varacen looks back at Bull feeling betrayed.  
“It leaked, Red is already on it. I wanted to try and help you. You know you’re a good elf, better than any other out there I’ve met. You saw right through this without effort, sharp mind and memory. You are still gorgeous, you know that right?” Bull asks softly at the end, and Varacen’s breath hitched. He looked away turning his blind side to Bull so the man didn’t see the wide eye and shock and the pathetic hope.  
“No, I am not. I’m short and thin and too weak willed to do what it takes. I’ve failed before. What can say I won’t this time?” Varacen whispers. Solas walks in next, Cole right behind him.  
“You did not fail on that count.” Solas states hearing that torn note and long having guessed the other elf’s problem, just as Varacen had guessed his.  
“So the Wolf howls at the moon, cold bitter light his only answer. Tell me, how is it I did not? I should have lead them, instead I was driven to slay my younger brother. I slew The Protector, leaving The People weak, with only The Shadow and The Guide. Soon after that Revas was murdered by his own acolytes! Do not lie and tell me I failed not! I am The Shadow I should have known and acted accordingly, not lurked and seconded guessed!” Varacen shouts partly standing on his knees as if wanting to lunge at the mage. Instead he flops back shaking his head eyes betraying the haunted look. He sighed breath shuddering as tears spilled.  
“What happened then is dead dust and gone. You have to stand tall and see what’s now and growing and alive.” Cole states and Varacen flinches.  
“I wish it were so simple Cole. I killed my own brother and might as well have slit Revas’ throat as well. I cannot look away from dead dust when it has such an innocent familiar face.” Varacen admits eye closed and face ashen. Bull sighs as does Solas. Cole doesn’t relent.  
“But you can, you’re just scared! Wanting, wishing, but scared, fearful, ‘I can’t give in, no weakness, be as I am meant, be as I was trained. I am the last, I cannot falter and fall. You feel like you can’t because you think it means you’re weak to want and need him. But you’re not!” Cole argues heatedly, and Varacen had had a soft spot for the spirit since he’d arrived at Haven. Varacen blinked at Cole in shock his tied hands, secure behind him wrist to elbow.  
“I wish I had such faith, Cole, but mercy and compassion often misunderstand worth. I do not deserve any of what I long for. I failed Mythal, I failed my beloved, I failed my son, and I failed my people. To atone it would take nothing less than eternity of denying that part of me that needs and wants.” Varacen answers softly. Solas sighed sadly, understanding this and seeing how badly it was affecting the other.  
“That’s a large part of you to deny.” He states and the look he receives makes his gut seem to vanish. It's a look that said no bigger than his.  
“You do the same, you long for it but deny it because to lose focus is to fail again. Deny whatever you wish but do not deny the truth! I need to do my duty, what I want is the weakness. To forget in bliss one moment. I can’t afford it, it is weakness, and thus a flaw I must fix. Or at the least deny and pretend I do not possess. Lathbora viran. I long for that which I cannot have. I neither deserve it nor have earned it. Nor shall I ever.” Varacen rants eye cast down shoulders fallen and body taking on a posture of defeat, this was no act, he need not in the presence of these three, because Solas knew Cole could read his mind and Bull was… Safe.  
“What? You don’t deserve to be kept sane? You don’t deserve to have what you need?” Bull asks stern and commanding and Varacen turns his head away. He couldn’t Bull made it too much, his heart stirred and the last time he had destroyed that so badly he’d sworn never again.  
“It’s just supposed to be a moment where the one submitting forgets the burden they have, it’s not meant to feel caring! I don’t deserve care, I don’t…” His voice broke and he choked back a sob. All were surprised as Varacen never cried.  
“How did she die?” Solas asks finding the root he and Cole took seats, Solas sat next to Bull, Cole sat on Varacen’s open side. Bull also knew, if they could find the root of Varacen’s self-hate and tug it lose perhaps he could truly heal.  
“She… I… She was murdered, I should have known I could not have her, she was not meant for one so cloaked in shadow and death, she was meant for the sun, not the night! Yet my soul sang at each chance meet, she was so bright and I loved her. I should never have let her stay at my side, should have never asked her hand. Once she smiled I fell and so did she when she accepted. Those who desired my power and position took her, by the time I found her, they had destroyed her, broken her and left her bleeding, fled and gone were her captors. I held her close and wept as she left this world.” Varacen’s voice is like a raw wound, sharp and painful but it holds a beauty as his voice was meant for song. Even this had a quality that made it nice on the ears if mournful a tale.  
“’Not your fault’ she says, voice soft, eyes wet, she fears for you, wants your pain to go away it hurts her to see it, then you look and your crying you can’t stop it, she’s leaving you, your son stands behind wanting to step forward but not wanting to take this last moment from you. ‘Ir abelas, ma vhenan…’ she whispers and then she’s gone, anger, hate, disgust, all at yourself and then it tangles and grows and you’re screaming now… Varlan turns away, pain in his chest, he thinks he’s lost both of you… You still hurt and fear getting others hurt it’s why you care so much, about the soldiers and us. Isn’t it?” Cole says and everyone looks from one to the other Varacen had relaxed and let Cole he stares at the spirit a moment.  
“Is it not what you see in me Cole? I fear seeing any of you hurt, I fear it being my hand or word that gives you the wound, it haunts me as she does, I cannot lose another and yet I have already caused so much pain and death for the people. I hesitated and my older brother fell, in front of me and I could have done anything to stop it. It haunts you makes your mind scream and you writhe and can’t get away; that is what it means to fail. It means you remember and in the future look to not repeat your mistakes. Cannot repeat this one. Mala suledin nadas.” Varacen whispers staring into the fire face etched with the pain he held within. Solas sighs and Varacen can feel his conflict so waits in silence to hear it.  
“You hold these things and yet it was not your fault on either account, you did your job going off your instinct, yes it was wrong, but it was an inevitable mistake, if not your brother another. Your wife is also not your fault, you were not the one to hurt her, you fought to save her. Had you died in her stead and were not here now where would we be? Learn from the past do not live in it!” Solas states firmly and Varacen looks up to the other elf.  
“Yet it is the past you and I wish to set right. I can try but my heart and mind do tarry in sorrow. My station does not bode well for my health. I swear I shall endure till Corypheus is cast down and The Breach sealed. Do not worry on that count. I shall not be the same at the end I fear.” Varacen answers staring into the fire again eye glazed.  
“But you can’t endure it, you want it to end, you grow weary of pain, ‘Uthenera is drawing close, but I’m not ready yet!’ You fear losing to the sleep if you can’t find something to fight for. You think all is lost, that hope is gone, your son will die and nothing more will keep you bound here.” Cole says and Varacen’s face twists in more pain.  
“Yes, that is true Cole. I lose hope with each passing day I hear nothing from Varlan of some form of cure for at least him. If he falls… What do I fight for? It has become something of a pointless cycle has it not?” Varacen asks slumped in on himself in defeat.  
“You can fight for Bull, you think of him every time you draw your blade, how to move around him, take advantage of lack of attention on yourself, remember to thank him later, Dorian, flash here of flame bleed out then back in behind, keep attention but not too much keep the enemy guessing, Solas, a blast and you’re there ending it to keep attention away, always away, Varric, listening and smiling and laughing but your eyes always searching, looking for hurt, the same with me and everyone. You care for us, but you don’t want to because then it hurts more latter… But if you didn’t care you wouldn’t be you.” Cole says and Varacen blinks, as if a cloud passed over him he frowns in thought then smiles looking like an old man who was reminded of something found.  
“Ma serannas Cole. I’ll remember who I am.” Varacen whispers softly. Cole cuts the ropes and Varacen gently hugs the spirit shocking him but Cole grins softly. Varacen looks at Bull and Solas they see a determination that’s been absent and they sigh in relief.  
“Ma serannas, my friends. Your care is appreciated. Let’s go back; I’m certain everyone is eager to see if my head was successfully pulled out of my ass.” He states grinning and everyone smiles. Varacen is quite for the return journey and puts his all into putting his all into healing in both senses. He hates his appearance but still accepts it and though the nightmares trouble him greatly he fights them.  
It’s a week later his bandages are removed from his chest and the Inner circle sees the upper body damage from waist up for the first time. Varacen had called a meeting but had not realized they were there and had been changing the bandage because he’d spilt ink on the old ones. Everyone saw the red angry marks tender and dry, but much better thanks to both Solas and Stitches.  
“You never broke… I’m impressed.” Cullen comments shocked by the damage and Varacen looks up holding the jar of poultice in one hand having forgotten the time he had been applying it to the drier areas. He flushed in shame. Looking down hiding the mar on his face.  
“You are a credit to us all.” Blackwall states looking at the marks regretful they were there but proud of how Varacen was going on and hadn’t caved.  
“I don’t suppose you need help?” Dorian asks wanting to feel up the elf, and fine with showing it, the offer startled a laugh from the elf. Solas smiles softly as the other elf looks up. And Varacen sees no disgust in his friends’ eyes. He blinks away the wetness before it becomes tears.  
“I spilt ink on the old bandages, and lost track of time. Anyway… I asked we all meet because I actually received a letter from my son… I’d like all of you to meet him and vice versa. Cullen and Lilianna have but it would mean a lot to have your support nonetheless. He hasn’t heard what happened… Though something odd happened, he accidently fell on a lifestone one that had a curious rune carved into it. He is no longer a Warden. I used it as an excuse to meet with him. He’s visiting King Alistair in Denerium. He’ll be here within the month.” Varacen explains setting the jar down and picking up a clean bandage to rewarp most of his hand and arm. Solas helps and he’s thankful.  
“We would be honored.” Josephine answers honestly smiling at him. Varacen relaxed greatly. Then he winces as he turns hissing in pain as a burn flares in pain from him moving wrong. It cracks and bleeds and Solas sooths it as Bull quickly came over and forced him to take a seat on a stool so he could apply the cream. Varacen looked away in humiliation.  
“That must hurt.” Sera states awkwardly and Varacen nods, it did.  
“You know, I’ve seen worse.” Varric states and Varacen smiles knowing Varric understands.  
“I know it is petty but I bear shame from this. My first and second probably told you that, I’ll just confirm it.” Varacen states rising and grabbing the clean black shirt, he had them all in his room. Bull noticed the bed didn’t look slept in; he glanced to the closet, and sees through the tiny crack a blanket corner. He stays quite.  
“Alright, besides that… I guess I just wanted to know I wasn’t facing my son alone.” Varacen states grinning slightly.  
“You can take on a dragon but your own son scares you?” Cassandra asks incredulous. Varacen goes wide eyed and stares at her.  
“Yes!” He states playful for the first time since returning; for everyone it is a relief.  
“He’s a terror! Going off and fighting Darkspawn, the little bastard is desperate to give me gray hair and a heart attack! Think of it! I’d have grey hair, oh the thought!” Varacen plays shuddering and Solas rolls his eyes smiling gently and shakes his head, Varacen fights a grin.  
“See even Solas thinks it bad! Truly it is the stuff of nightmares!” Varacen dissolves into giggles as Solas gives him a small grin and pokes at some hair.  
“I think I see silver already.” He states pointing and Varacen gasps in shock and then laughs because Solas actually joined in his little fun.  
The group spent a few hours talking and joking with each other and Varacen relaxes forgetting himself, and how his eye is uncovered. Until Sera accidently points it out.  
“You and Bull match, it’s kinda cute.” She grins but at how Varacen suddenly pales she realizes too late the mistake. Varacen turns his head down hiding the damage and going quite.  
“It’s not that bad…” Sera tries but the damage is done, Varacen shakes his head. He isn’t going to look up. Bull huffs in annoyance and reaches for his taking it off and tossing it between the elf’s feet. Varacen looks up in shock only to see Bull’s own mark and winces looking away feeling shame.  
“Not the same, yours was in protection, mine is a wound I neither chose nor received in combat.” Varacen says softly. Everyone notes the insecurity in his voice. Solas leaves with a look between him and Bull. Cole follows and Sera and Varric follow suit Cullen sighs as he walks away. Cassandra and Blackwall both shake their heads as they leave. Liliana watched a moment looking to Bull then Varacen, then walked down after the others. Dorian was the only one to speak.  
“You’re still the most attractive one in the Inquisition.” He states walking away with regret in his eyes. Bull knows he wants the elf.  
“I know what I am, but attractive? No. You can pull it off! You show it all off, pride in each mark. A true warrior, I am a spy, I am not meant to be marked by blade I am meant to kill without giving an opening for an attack to myself. How can I do my job as both a figure head and as a Serpent if I am no longer what I was?” Varacen asks looking up and bearing the mark to Bull looking hurt and conflicted. Bull pulled him up and to the mirror Viv had left on the table and waited for Varacen to look into it.  
“That is still desired by a pampered vint princeling. This is still gorgeous.” Bull states grabbing the elf by the chin gently and turning his face up. He waited letting it sink in he was fully serious. Varacen looked unconvinced, disbelief lingering in his eyes. He didn’t think he deserved praise nor did he feel in any form beautiful any longer.  
“Please Bull, stop. I’m not that anymore. See and think what you would like, but please do not lie to me. This is not beautiful it’s scars and pain.” Varacen states looking away as he pulled away and walked out the window and leaned on the balcony rail. He stared down into the courtyard and held in his emotions willing them to go away. He hummed a tune.  
“No I don’t need you again…” He sang softly remembering his son’s song to a lover who’s made the mistake of trying to hurt his son by sleeping with his friend. The friend hadn’t known, he’d been told by the lover his son had left him, a mutual agreement. The affair had hurt his son, who had a talent with music. When he’d found out it had been hell, he’d traced the lover down and threatened to remove his balls if he set foot near his son ever again. This had been a few years after his wife had passed. He’d been protective of his only child, learning he would have had a daughter did not help his protective nature it made him quick to threaten when in relation to his son’s safety.  
“What song was that from?” Bull asks and Varacen looks back only a moment before going to his seat to do more paperwork.  
“A song my son wrote to spite a lover who’d cheated on him. I even threatened the bastard with castration if he set foot near Varlan ever again.” Varacen states matter of fact, his gaze level as he fastened the dragon fang eye patch into place. It had been made for him by Dagna, he’d asked her for an eye patch and given her a sketch of what he wanted everything else was up to her. It was framed and fastened in bloodstone, and the leather harness made of black dragon hide. Varacen had loved how Dagna had made the patch, it bore upon it the symbols of Fen’Harel. He’d explained a wolf would chase it’s pray until it tired before taking it down, that was what he planned on doing to the Venatori. Let them fear the rebellion boiling in his chest to the ideas they held of his people.  
“You look good in bloodstone.” Bull suddenly says and Varacen blinks at him hand ghosting over the patch.  
“Dagna made it look appealing yes. Bull if all you’d like to do is try and convince me of my own worth and looks I-“ Varacen was cut off as Bull kissed him, both quieting the elf and shocking him. Varacen touched his lips as the Bull drew away. As if trying to figure out what had just happened.  
“Look, Boss, we are all worried for you. You’re still the one everyone looks up to. Don’t give your men a reason to doubt you. Pretend you bear the marks proud. Come to the tavern latter.” Bull states firmly walking away and down to spend time with Krem. As Bull had guessed Varacen came, but he dressed differently wearing common cloths and wearing a simple eye patch as well as somehow darkening up his hair to a near black, though his startling bright emerald eye was unchanged. A drunkard pinned him to a wall but as Bull stood anger in his chest Varacen planted the man on his ass. A boot on the drunk’s chest and a summoned blade in hand pointed with its delicate seeming tip resting lightly on a bare throat.  
“The Inquisitor is an elf. Would you approach him in such a manner? He nor I suffer fools lightly and such behavior toward any gender or race is intolerable. I will give not another warning to you nor anyone else within this tavern. Now, my boss is possibly displeased for the scene, if you’ll excuse me.” Varacen sneers vanishing the blade with a mere flick of his wrist and walking to Bull head held high. Eye glittering with pride, he had donned a mask, and he flashing a charming grin.  
“I’ve been gone to long and came back matching Chief.” Varacen cracks and the Tavern’s atmosphere goes back to normal. Varacen dropped into a chair that Bull had kept open and let his head thunk into the table. He let lose a low growled curse in elvish that had Dalish’s jaw drop.  
“You my friend have a crude tongue.” She chirped after he was done growling. Varacen lifted his head a red mark on his forehead an evil grin curling his lips. He gave a snarky reply and she gasped and shot back at him they descended into easy bickering in elvish.  
“You have a mastery of the tongue I have never heard.” Dalish says stumped and finding it hard to keep up. Varacen smiled.  
“I can teach you Da’len, should you wish it. I haven’t had a student in so long I feel old.” Varacen’s smile is easy going and his eye showed a relaxed contentment. Bull wondered if it was the company. Perhaps the loss of his Clan had hit harder than he let on, the familiarity made the elf relax and a strange mix of comfort and sorrow filled the way the elf spoke and moved.  
“I think I should like that.” Dalish grins and Varacen laughs lightly.  
“Here’s a start then...” And Bull hadn’t a clue what was said, but when the elf explained what it meant and helped Dalish wrap her tongue around it he felt surprised.  
“Here is where my heart lays, my family in more than blood.” Varacen explains, head down and a bittersweet pain in his eyes. Dalish gave an understanding look patting his hands, which were resting over one another.  
“It must be hard for you.” She whispers Varacen closes his eye tight tears leaking out despite the effort as he gives a tight nod. He takes a deep breath and sighs opening his eye he nods as if deciding something. His hand flicks the clasp on the eye patch and he tucks it into his belt, the wound had been healed but having it open was still strange, but The Chargers had always offered him a strange and bittersweet comfort. They all acknowledged this as a sign of his trust and they smiled, offering the support Varacen had needed and not known to accept.  
“You still look damn good. Better, but we dwarves get told were weird like that.” Rocky jokes and Varacen snickered, he caught the jab at how dwarves stereotypically liked scars.  
“Oh you will be kept far, far away. I’ve heard the rumors about you strange, strange little dwarf. Feet really?” He asks and everyone is laughing hard as Rocky fakes indignation.  
“Hey, a foot fetish is perfectly normal.” Rocky snickers and Varacen shrugs.  
“I’ve dealt with weirder I’ll give you that.” Varacen states flippantly, Krem is next to speak up.  
“Like what?” He is incredulous at there being weirder, though the elf’s evil looking smile makes him regret the question.  
“I had one who liked bottoming from the top and having magic used on him, and that’s a tamer tale.” Varacen chuckles Bull chuckles and the elf’s head tilted back to look up a grin forming lazy and relaxed.  
“Want to swap stories?” Bull snickers as the company groans a few muttering ‘I’m not drunk enough for this’ Varacen chuckles.  
“I think we share too many for it to be much sport. I helped my Clan and people as you have helped others. By giving them what they need. Ropes, toys, and kinks included. Oh, I remember one that stands out, a she-elf fair, she was quite the beauty, she asked I help her forget something or another, I was weary with her she’d been abused in the past. In the end I wound up getting tied down with a wicked vixen taking orders. She I believe is somewhere near the Exalted Plains her clan wanders that area. Creative that one.” Varacen muses and Bull is surprised, obviously Varacen would have been able to get out of the ropes but it wasn’t something he’d ever done.  
“That’s a shocker; you like bondage?” Bull asks and Varacen shrugs.  
“It… Depends. Does the person need to feel held in place, given an illusion of struggle or force? Always with a word to stop in case it’s too much; mana for the ones who are new, if they know the system and have one it’s their word. I’ve played this game many years. I can read a need in anyone easily, if I know I am needed. Like our dear Commander, that one needs a firm hand to call him to heel. I would not mind it if he could forgive his demons. He is deeply troubled. I think any offer would be fast rejected. Also pretty certain he is straighter than my son is gay.” Varacen mused and everyone is laughing. They tease and jest some more about sexual things and Bull is rather shocked how open Varacen is about this part of his life.  
“I would have never thought you were like this.” Krem admits and a charming grin lights the elf face. A flirty remark sure to come.  
“A charmer? A sexual deviant? A domineering partner? Honestly I’m shocked Krem, You didn’t think I liked to be the one at the leash lead, knowing with the right word and suggestive tug I could make my partner fall to pieces? It’s nice to see the one you are with relaxed, content, and sated.” Varacen admits eye looking far away a moment before his face shows a past pain Bull knows.  
“She meant a lot.” Dalish states and Varacen nods.  
“She was my sun and moon, and then she gave me my son who is the dearest treasure I hold. I honestly am nervous about meeting him after how long it’s been. Fifteen years, long to my weary heart, yet seeming all too short in current events.” Varacen admits looking into a drink that had been set in front of him he tipped the drink skeptically before shooting it back coughing as he looked incredulous. The Chargers after a pause of shock howled with laughter.  
“Ugh, what was that? Flaming piss?” Varacen groused looking at the cup in disgust shoving it away to thunk his head down gagging for effect. The night dissolved from there everyone shocked by how Varacen kept pace with Bull until he was again perched in the qunari’s lap a flirt and tease. The effect on the hair slowly faded tips to roots leaving the sheen of crimson as it normally was; just beginning to dry blood. Bull was also slightly drunk by this point, and Varacen was mostly healed, the burns were brittle but besides that the elf was good. Bull wasn’t that drunk though, he caught the thought and laughed as Varacen bull shit his way to winning a card game with crap cards while completely wasted. Varacen grinned as Krem grumbled pushing the pot over.  
“Why ‘m I playing your hands?” Varacen asks frowning as he watched Bull place a new bet with everyone else and handed him the cards. Varacen huffed as Bull laughed.  
“Because you’re kicking arse while completely drunk.” Bull laughs.  
“At least between you two you have a full set of eyes to see the cards.” Krem mutters and both men bust up laughing, it had been funny. The night dissolved until Varacen was just curled up on Bull’s lap passed out. Then Bull called it good night plucked a few things from the pile and shoved it back into the center for his boys to sort out. He picked the elf in his lap up carefully and stood.  
“I’ll take this one to his room.” Bull calls to keep up the ploy and goes up stairs and sets the elf in bed taking off their boots before passing out. The next day he was surprised to wake up before the elf, but Varacen was curled against his side. The lean body was stretched out languidly against his side and Bull would have liked it a little more if it were naked but he only chuckled, he liked everyone better naked. That woke up his sleeping partner.  
“Oh my head… Did I let you convince me to drink that flaming piss again? I remember a drink then it gets fuzzy from there.” The elf groused pressing his forehead against Bull’s chest. Bull chuckled and the elf growled at the noise his head beginning to pound.  
“Yeah, though you were pretty sober most of the night. I guess the flaming piss is a sure way to land you on your ass.” Bull laughs at the nod pressed into his chest.  
“I don’t know if I should stab you for making my head hurt or admit I like the sound.” Varacen sighs too much pounding in his head for him to care.  
“You’re getting soft boss, come on, let’s get you up I have a few potions in here to help with a hangover.” Bull says fondly and Varacen cracks his eye open to peer at his pillow. After a moment the elf sits up stretches like a damned cat and touches a hand to his head with a faint green blue glow he sighs.  
“I can help myself, but thank you for the thought. You need help or are you fine?” Varacen asks looking at Bull fondly. Bull realizes the elf isn’t fully awake, there is sleep in his eye. The hangover still making the Inquisitor sleepy.  
“Nah, I’m good. You look beat, come on, we should get you to your rooms.” Bull says easily and Varacen stands slipped on his boots and his eye patch and slipped out but stopped in the door looking up at Bull just behind.  
“It’s not just that I’m tired. You took care with me twice when I’ve ended up drunk and in your lap practically begging for it. Last night helped a great deal Bull. If I can still share drinks with the Chargers and throw banter around with them, then perhaps not as much has changed as I thought.” Varacen says looking down then back up leaning up to kiss the horned giant on the jaw, before slipping away. Varacen hid in his rooms doing paperwork blushing hotly that he’d kissed Bull at all. Around lunch time Bull came by setting down the trinkets he’d plucked from the winnings last night.  
“What I thought you might like from the heap of crap you won from the card game with me and my boys. You beat them, with crap cards each time. But Josephine wants everyone to be at lunch at our normal spot unless you’re going to skip?” Bull asks Varacen yawns looks at his work grabs his fancy eye patch and stands shaking his head. He’d be there, he was still tired from the effects that were incurable from the hang over, but he could handle that.  
“No, I’ll go. I have to drop this paperwork off anyway. Wait, I beat the Chargers at cards while wasted with crap cards? Well then. I’m better at my poker face while wasted than I thought.” Varacen states flippantly smiling softly and trying to stifle a yawn. Bull only chuckled and grabbed the large stack of completed work. Varacen followed him down and into Josephine’s office to leave the papers there before going to their spot in a private dining room for the Inner Circle. Everyone was already sitting down chatting about all sorts of things like any family might. Varacen had made it a rule, unless urgent, nothing Inquisition over food.  
“Hey, Tiny so good of you to join us! He right behind you?” Varric greets and the soft yawn from behind Bull answers him. Varacen leans around Bull and waves taking a seat and fighting not to yawn again. Bull sits next to Varacen, it was the last seat left.  
“Whoa, what you do to him?” Sera asks having never seen the Inquisitor lacking energy as the man normally was always moving, not sitting lazily in his seat relaxed and still like he’d be with the Chargers.  
“Nothing’s wrong, Sera, I’m just relaxed. Which reminds me; I have yet to introduce my left and right hands. Yet you all saw to it they had seats here. I swear you can all read my mind. Have I been absent from group meals so long? Ugh, I suck.” Varacen huffs looking up and his two friends chuckle. This was so typical.  
“We already did introductions,” One starts.  
“But if it pleases you.” The other finished perfectly in beat as they both rose to their feet and bowed in elven fashion.  
“Atlassan.” The left hand states, pale blue eyes sparkling almost like ice but warmer. His skin was fair pale as snow, and his hair was a honey blond much like Cullen’s but it was long falling in waves till half way down his back.  
“Sorlassan.” The right hand says after bowing in the same manner smiling which went all the way to his olive green eyes which were friendly, his skin was softly tanned and his chestnut hair was cut short, only to his shoulders and plaited back.  
Everyone smiled as Varacen nods and the two sit again, they were across Bull and their leader and friend. Varacen seemed easier and more settled than any ever recall seeing him. He’d come to terms in his mind while working with two things. One, he loved The Iron Bull. Two, he’d never have what his heart sought, because though no longer under the Qun Bull had been raised in a manner he didn’t do love. Varacen would content himself with the knowledge that at least they were good friends.  
“I’ve heard tell of another dragon.” Cullen starts and Varacen and Bull’s attention snap to him, both had a weird passion for the beasts.  
“I know there are only ten known beasts across Theadas at this time, and we’ve taken on a Ferelden Frostback, Abyssal, Sandy Howler, Vinsomer, and a Northern Hunter. The newest?” Varacen asks eye sparkling with interest and excitement wide awake now.  
“A Gamordan Stormrider. We excavated that tunnel in the Exalted Plains, a dragon’s den is in it. Looks like war isn’t the only thing scorching the plains.” Cullen states. Varacen laughs with Bull both eager to get out and slay it. Solas shook his head chuckling, relived and happy the sullen mood is lifting from the normally cheery Inquisitor.  
“A beast of such power is a humbling opponent and it would be a great thing to do with my son, he’s only ever fought one, a Vinsomer by the description, and a nasty girl at that. You remember it Lillianna yes? I hear you were there with his lover and the Enchanter Wynne.” Varacen states a grin forming that was positively wolfish, he always got like this when hunting dangerous prey, but dragons roused a feral part of him that set him on par with Bull in some senses. Lilliana smiles.  
“Yes, she was a Vinsomer and difficult to defeat, but Varlan had been adamant such a danger to Ferelden be dealt with. “ She agrees and Varacen is positively looking wolfish with the way his eye shines in eager anticipation and his smile is feral. It made the excitement in Bull’s whole form look tame.  
“Fen.” Atlassan states not having even looked up to see the way Varacen reacted; too busy working with some complicated knot work in his lap.  
“I think the dread wolf would think him crazy.” Sorlassan mutters watching the scene a fond smile on his lips. Varacen laughs softly looking at the two he felt like a father toward.  
“I don’t think he’d think it so, only he’d found a hunting partner.” Varacen eye flashes in a way that makes Bull realize just how right some rumors are, Varacen was wild but not how the gossips painted it, it wasn’t savage, it was hot. Solas and Varacen had caught their gazes and something seemed to unsettle Solas just a bit before the elf looked back down.  
“I guess the rumors have merit. Wild Dalish.” Bull snickers and Varacen snorts unimpressed before sitting tall and straight and holding his head high and proud eye meeting Bull’s.  
“Wild yes, but savage? No. Those rumors only hold merit that at heart I am a hunter. I am dangerous, and I am a Serpent. The rumors are started by those who fear me. They have good enough reason. They should be happy I don’t have cause to send in any Serpents.” Varacen states before relaxing back his excitement fading as he knew the hunt would not be now, they would have to wait till his burns were healed more.  
“But they do not know you are a Serpent.” Solas points out. Varacen chuckles.  
“Should I ruffle feathers and go to the Palace in the attire marking me at my station? Celene I know will recognize my eye in a mask I have long had. Even if I were to wear clothes of a shade I do not normally wear. I am normally the only one wearing black, silver, and emerald green.” Varacen muses tilting his head slightly. He chuckles shaking his head.  
“It would start us off expertly, all heads turn and gasps ring out as they all realize a master player has entered not some fresh elf plucked out of the wild.” Varacen almost purrs a smug smile pulling at his lips. His mind now turned to The Game and a new feral side shows through with a flash of gleaming white teeth.  
“Josephine, you said you wanted a few ideas on a wardrobe to represent us, I think after lunch we should talk about it.” Varacen says then his thoughts clear with a shake of his head. It was lunch they should be eating.  
As Varacen starts to eat they notice his left and right hands wait then begin after he takes first bite. No one comments on it for a moment.  
“Are the serpents run like a wolf pack?” Cullen suddenly asks not able to resist after such a thing. Varacen stops thinks and shrugs, there was no harm in telling these people.  
“In some ways. It is merely a respect thing for these two, like in an Orlesian family where all wait till the head of the family has taken a bite. I took them in when they were… Six and nine I believe, much too young to be on their own for certain. I took them in and trained them. I trust them more than anyone. I look at them like my own sons and Varlan calls them brothers.” Varacen says softly giving a soft look to them and both smile softly pleased by the praise.  
“Yes, mamae. I was nine, Atlassan was six.” Sorlassan says smiling cheekily as Varacen laughed. Varacen knew his nature was tuned toward Sylaise, kind neutering, or at least what she had been attributed. His beliefs were complex.  
“Little brat.” Varacen says gently smiling with fondness just pouring off him. They eat in silence a long while before Varric starts up with a new topic.  
“So you’re in charge of these scary Serpents then?” Varric asks and Varacen smiles slightly still eating he only nods. He swallows his bite and leans forward casually.  
“Yes, and that never leaves this room. Unless you would like help writing in a similar order into your books, then you can do whatever you wish as long as my name or Herald or any other title that’s been plastered to me is not used on their leader.” Varacen states voice serious, he honestly was uneasy with these people knowing, simply because it put him in a position of risk of discovery. He imagined Solas felt the same.  
“Alright.” Varric states and Varacen stares at his plate face growing troubled as his thoughts trailed to how his son may react to seeing him. The conversations around the table are easy going no one sure how to broach the topic on how troubled Varacen looks.  
“How can I do this? What will he think? What if people attack him for this? What do I do if the Venatori already know?” Cole says softly and Varacen shuts his eye shaking his head in quick stiff jerks, he doesn’t want to think on it. Varlan had already been through so much. Seen far too much of the world. He only realized he’d buried his face in his hands when Bull just gently laid a hand on his back. He realized with a small jump of surprise he’d partly curled on himself.  
“I’m fine.” Varacen states on instinct forcing himself to sit back and not think about his son. He gives a shaky smile and goes back to eating, hating the worried air that permeates the room now. Bull keeps his hand on his back and Varacen finds himself closing his eyes and just leaning into the comfort.  
“You don’t look it.” Varric states concerned. Varacen sighed and pressed back a little as if begging for the hand to pull him closer. Bull doesn’t cautious of Varacen’s limits and the elf is thankful.  
“I’m worried. I haven’t seen Varlan in what feels far longer than it has been. I will be seeing someone as changed by his experiences as I myself have been. He won’t see me the same for more reasons than an eye patch. He’ll understand me in more depth than he did when he was younger. I’m scared neither of us will be able to be as we were with one another. I fear how he’ll take to the abuse to me and how the public knowledge he is my son may affect him. I fear what some would do to get to me.” Varacen admits pain lacing into his voice, he knew how far some would go and it hurt and scared him witless to see it in his mind, like his wife but in her place would be Varlan. He felt sick.  
“I can arrange so you meet him as a visiting leader.” Josephine offers helpfully Varacen smiles at her kindly.  
“Once he and I are next to one another it will be undeniable we are family. Though by the grace of fate he took well after his mamae. His hair is the same color as wheat and his far skin is more in line with me, but his eyes are the color of the shallow waters in the Nevaren bays, pale bright blue. His body and face took mostly after me though, except his features are softer. Though unfortunately his temperament is very much like my own.” Varacen muses fondly chuckling and everyone smiles. Suddenly though Varacen looks ill. The scent of cooked beef had hit his nose and brought back a memory hard and he rushed out knuckle to his mouth a green tinge coloring his face. Varacen avoided everyone until dinner where he explained it was an off and on occurrence, the scent of meat was only a trigger under certain circumstances. Though it only got better from that point.  
The days passed and Varacen only improved both mentally and physically. His body was nearly fully healed though the scares were still tender and he was still very shy about being seen without a shirt covering the damage where he used to spar shirtless on a regular basis. The cloths that he used to wear were too harsh on his skin and Josephine found a deep green outfit that was similar to the previous beige one that had less metal ornamentation and more silver thread embroidering that worked far better for the elf both fashion wise and on his skin. The pants were dark leather like the boots and Varacen thanked the gods for such a change.  
Near the end of the month everyone gathered near the gates behind Varacen, who’d decided to meet his son on equal grounds, he’d added a black sash to his new outfit tying it together wonderfully. He had also added simple plain white gloves to protect the tender skin. He stood with the eye patch marked with a howling wolf on and smiled in his eagerness. He hadn’t been able to help getting up early and waiting at the gates his son had sent word he would arrive today sometime near noon. It was noon and Varacen wanted to run to his son and hug him tight and hear the laugh he had missed dearly.  
There was something wrong, only one person and Varlan had said he’d be bringing his lover, Zevran, who was an Ex-Crow and now an apt Serpent thanks to Varlan’s teachings. Varlan tensed stepping forward and looking hard and his heart froze. It was one elf, and they were running throwing glances over their shoulders and their skin was bronzed from sun, his son had pale skin. Varacen felt his heart begin to beat frantically as he ran forward not heading any cries and shouts from those behind him. The gold hair and bronze skin marked the elf as his son’s lover. Zevran was alone, something was very, very wrong. There was a blade in one hand which meant Zevran had met trouble.  
“Duck!” Varacen shouts when he’s near seeing the elf is pursued by Venatori and as Zevran rolled forward and crouched low, Varacen skid to a knelling position and slammed a palm down sending forward a wave of ice both shielding him and the Antivan and impaling running Venatori warriors and rogues. Two mages were left; one on either side of the bridge backing away from the ice wall and looking both confused and hesitant. Standing Varacen let the ice shatter and drew the two throwing blades from the inside of his boots, before rushing forward and stopping just short of a lighting rune to throw both blades nailing both mages in their throats.  
“Let’s get moving; into the fort and close the gates.” Varacen states turning back and helping the Antivan standing realizing he was wounded, but not badly. He could stand. Though the wound still made Varacen tense and grow worried, as by Varlan’s account Zevran was scarily good at avoiding blades. Varacen let Zevran limp backwards scanning for more enemies, as he slowly crept forward and retrieved his two throwing knives. He looked for anything to give away orders but found only items that their smith could use and some gold.  
“Inquisitor…” It’s scout Harding. Varacen stands and turns his blind side to cover out across the bridge. The eye patch could see auras, an experiment of Dagna’s that had proven to be very effective.  
“I want everyone inside Skyhold, we’re closing our gates for a while. Until I’ve spoken with Zevran I want archers patrolling the walls and I want there to be several on watch over the gate.” Varacen states feeling his gut twist, no sign of life, his son or otherwise. Harding nods yes becoming determined as if I the field and she walks with him back toward the gate, Varacen sees Zevran had sheathed his blade and was struggling a little more with the wounds. His adrenaline wearing down making him tired and leaving him to fully notice the pain.  
“Here, lean on me.” Varacen offers moving over to the assassin who looks at him and laughs lightly but does not refuse the help leaning some of his weight against the smaller elf. That’s when Varacen notices the shivering and realizes the elf was Antivan, he wasn’t used to chill, and it must be worse after the adrenaline crash and wound. Even after running around with his son in cold Ferelden.  
“Solas, Vivienne, I need help he’s wounded and I’m uncertain of how badly.” Varacen calls once at the gate Harding directing his orders to get in and shut everything down. The two walk over and Varacen help Zevran sit on the steps leading up to the ramparts and Cullen’s rooms. Varacen pulls off his gloves and helps the Ex-Crow pull off the chest armor which looks like the design the Crows use but is much different, the pattering match a snake. Varacen sees the gash and realizes the wound was from an ice shard; which would explain the shivers.  
“I need one of you to help close and heal the damage, I need the other to try and help warm him up; he is getting dangerously close to hypothermia.” Varacen instructs, Viv takes care of helping keeping Zevran warm and Solas moves up next to him to help heal the wound.  
“You know he behaves so much like you, I thought it was Varlan for a moment.” Zevran sighs wincing in pain as Varacen checks it and begins to heal it after a short conversation with Solas. Varacen looks up his eye betraying his worry and fear.  
“I’ll assume you have no idea where he is then.” Varacen says and Zevran’s own eyes dull in pain and worry. He shakes his head.  
“We were attacked and we got separated, but had agreed much earlier to meet here should something along these lines happen. Unfortunately they sent mages after me. Blades I am good with, magic is another matter entirely.” Zevran chirps candid wincing in pain slightly as flesh mends, with the two healers working on this it would be soon healed.  
“Alright you’re healed; I’ll show you to a room so you can wash up and rest. I’ll like to start looking for him as soon as we are able.” Varacen states handing back the armor and helping strap a few things back, it was cold and he felt possessive in his son’s place. None save Varlan should be seeing Zevran bare. He kept his word as he pulled on his gloves he led Zevran to the rooms that had been set up for him and his son.  
“I’ll be down shortly.” Zevran says seeing that worry and understanding it too well. Varacen nods and leaves the Antivan to pace before the steps leading to his throne, behaving much like a caged lion; he was vaguely thankful no visitors were currently at Skyhold. Only soldiers and such. He knew everyone was watching him but he couldn’t care, he wanted his son, he cared for nothing more than to hold him safe and sound. It made his breath catch and his body freeze. What if that would never happen again? What if’s began to dance in his mind, he let out a high pitched whine hands curling into his hair at his forehead. He collapsed to his knees a sob leaving his chest. His son was in danger and it was more than likely his fault. He let out a keen of emotional pain curling in on himself as it sunk in that his son, his little Varlan could easily be dead right now.  
“He means a great deal to you.” It’s Zevran and the accent and gentle caring tone penetrates into the place his mind had taken him. Varacen opened his eye slowed his quick breathes and looks up, tears are burning in his eyes and have left warm trails on his cheek. He nods unable to rouse his voice from the hollow it had fled to in his chest.  
“He is my dearest treasure, my son and the last in my blood family, my right and left hand call him brother, he calls them the same and now it could be he is dead. Because of me!” Varacen wailed the last word curling in on himself again pain radiating from the center of his chest and burning like fire. Zevran hesitated a moment cocked his head to the side then drew slowly closer murmuring softly in soothing tones, they were Antivan words but it was not the language that mattered, it was the intent.  
“Be calm hahren, be calm. It is as you say, but it can be he is alive.” Zevran finally says knelt by the older elf and gently running a hand down in circles over the taunt back until the older elf relaxed breath shuddering but easier. Varacen stood with the Antivan who seemed like Lilianna did now that she knew his son was his, how to handle him.  
“Ir abelas.” Varacen whispers only loud enough the words carry to those gathered in the hall, his Inner Circle. They all know those words; it’s an apology. None had seen Varacen so broken except Bull and Solas. They were both worried. Varacen had a dim look in his eye, neither of them had seen, it was like nothing was there. Cole was twitching and looked extremely upset.  
“Cole, how are you doing?” Varacen asks after swallowing hard and looking at the spirit worriedly but tired. Cole fidgets a little.  
“It all hurts and is tangled with bitterness and fear but I can’t tug it lose without it tearing.” There is distress in the boy’s voice and Varacen sighs. He begins to hum a tune to sooth his mind and emotions to help sooth Cole’s own distress. It works the song curled within him offering hope and the strength he needed. He hears Solas sing the elvish words and tears fall but they are no longer of pain.  
“All that has happened since you parted ways with Varlan after the attack, we will need to hear it, spare no detail.” Varacen says softly looking at Zevran and listening with a grim shadow growing over the elf. When they had first been attacked the Venatori had made efforts to capture not kill. They were attempting to capture them both. Zevran said he had no idea what they knew nor if they had Varlan, though not using him as a chip to get ahold of him suggested the other elf was still running and evading, maybe even in hiding.  
“Lady Nightingale, throw out your net and see what you can catch, Cullen, I want our men to start drilling harder and possibly get out in field more, Josephine, get in contact with all our allies see if they may know where my son is and let them know he is in need of aide and is missing. I’m calling in all Serpents within a hundred miles, Sorlassan, Atlassan, you know what to do. Dismissed, I need to be alone.” Varacen commands voice strong and sure and his posture that of one in charge but in his eye is deep seated weariness. He walks away up to his room and collapses into his bed weeping. He wanted to scream but it withered and he was silent.


End file.
